


"Best Laid Plans"

by CyberMum, fmlyhntr, jamelia116, juli17ptf, Penny_P, Rocky_T, SeemaG, Voyager_Virtual Season_7-5_Staff_Writers (jamelia116)



Series: Voyager Virtual Season 7.5 [38]
Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation, Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Delta Quadrant, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-04 14:57:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 49,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21199550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CyberMum/pseuds/CyberMum, https://archiveofourown.org/users/fmlyhntr/pseuds/fmlyhntr, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamelia116/pseuds/jamelia116, https://archiveofourown.org/users/juli17ptf/pseuds/juli17ptf, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Penny_P/pseuds/Penny_P, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rocky_T/pseuds/Rocky_T, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeemaG/pseuds/SeemaG, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamelia116/pseuds/Voyager_Virtual%20Season_7-5_Staff_Writers
Summary: The plans for Voyager II's journey to the Delta Quadrant to offer the services of the Federation to the Briorii world evolve into a more complicated mission.





	1. Prologue--Surprises

**Author's Note:**

> As always, this episode would not have been possible without the co-operation of the entire Staff of Voyager's Virtual Season 7.5. A heartfelt thank you to each and every one of them.
> 
> This episode originally appeared on ASC and the VVS7.5 website in April 2003.
> 
> Disclaimer: Paramount/Viacom/CBS own all rights to the Star Trek franchise, which includes **Star Trek: The Next Generation** as well as **Star Trek: Voyager.** We're just borrowing some of the characters from both of those series to people our stories, to go along with an array of original characters we've come up with on our own. We hope you enjoy them all.

**VOYAGER VIRTUAL SEASON 7.5—episode 38**  
  
**Best Laid Plans**  
  
**By Rocky, CyberMum and the VS7.5 staff:**  
Christina, Penny, Julie, Jamelia, and Seema  


  
  
**_Prologue—Surprises_**  
  
*1*  
  
**Starfleet Headquarters, San Francisco-January 10, 2381, Stardate 57027.6**  
  
Janeway strode quickly through the corridors of Starfleet Headquarters, nodding to the people she passed, but her mind was not on her surroundings. Admiral Hayes had ordered her to report to his office as soon as possible. He had given no reason. Janeway had spent her time in transit from Utopia Planitia speculating, but she had been unable to come up with any explanation.  
  
The aide in the outer office rose as she entered. "You're to go in right away, Captain."  
  
"Thank you, Lieutenant," Janeway said. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the presence of additional security officers. Something was up—but what?  
  
The inner door opened. Hayes was speaking to someone seated in the corner of his office, "...the fact is, we don't know how much we can accept at face value—ah, Captain Janeway, you made very good time in getting over here."  
  
"Fortunately, I was able to catch an outbound shuttle within ten minutes of your call, Admiral," Janeway said. At that moment, Hayes' visitor shifted his chair and she gasped in surprise.  
  
It was Tuvok.  
  
Before she could recover, however, Hayes said, "I'm sure you're wondering why you've been called in on such short notice, Captain."  
  
With an effort, Janeway turned her attention back to the Commander-in-Chief. "Yes, sir, I am." She paused, "I presume this concerns _Voyager_?"  
  
The new ship's mission—a return to the Delta Quadrant, specifically the planet of the Boirii or "37's"—was imminent; they were scheduled to launch in less than a month. Janeway wondered if Hayes was going to announce another postponement. There had been some last minute glitches in the new transwarp drive recently, but B'Elanna had been confident those would soon be resolved. But even if there was going to be another delay, why would Hayes feel it necessary to tell her in person? Suddenly, the answer hit her: Hayes was going to cancel the mission altogether.  
  
Some of her apprehension must have shown in her expression, because Hayes smiled and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "That's a fair assumption on your part, Captain, that this matter involves your ship. But it's a little more complicated than that." Hayes exchanged glances with a still silent Tuvok. "I called you here today to inform you that, in light of some information that has recently been brought to my attention, the mission parameters have changed." He turned to Tuvok. "Why don't you tell Captain Janeway what's been going on?"  
  
Tuvok rose and moved to the front of the room. For the first time, Janeway noticed he was wearing a Starfleet uniform.  
  
"Over the past several months I have been in telepathic contact with Kes," Tuvok said without any preamble. "With the help of certain...others," Tuvok glanced at Hayes who appeared about to say something, "this has since been supplemented with actual communication via the Pathfinder project."  
  
Janeway knew quite well Kes's mental powers were formidable, at this point even greater than Tuvok's own. "Was there a particular reason she contacted you to begin with?" Janeway asked.  
  
"As you have correctly surmised, Captain, it was indeed Kes who initiated this communication. After our last contact with Kes, during the sixth year of our journey, she returned to the Ocampan homeworld and was warmly welcomed by her people, despite their steadily worsening circumstances. The Caretaker did the best he could to provide for the Ocampa prior to his death. However, they have now reached the point where they must relocate to a different world. They are running short of resources, as well as available living space in the underground caverns. For a number of reasons which will become clear shortly, they have requested the Federation's help."  
  
It was not surprising the Ocampa could no longer remain on their planet, Janeway reflected. She remembered all too vividly the barren wasteland that was the Ocampa surface. "Do the Ocampa have some specific destination in mind?" she asked.  
  
"After much effort and time Kes has found a suitable planet," Tuvok said.  
  
"There aren't exactly numerous uninhabited or unclaimed worlds that are suitable, particularly in that region," Janeway said, leaning forward in her seat. She had a sudden insight. "Is it the Boirii planet?" She recalled how the Humans there had offered the original _Voyager_'s crew the opportunity to settle down. And this must be how the new ship was involved. The more she thought about it now, the more sense it made.  
  
Tuvok's eyes met hers. "It is the planet you know as New Earth."  
  
Janeway sat back, stunned. Numerous images and memories of her time on that planet—with Chakotay, for what they had thought would be the rest of their lives—rushed through her mind. Aloud, she said quietly, "That planet is claimed by the Vidiians."  
  
"Yes, it is," Tuvok said. "However, Kes has secured permission from the Vidiian Sodality to set up a colony there. "  
  
"At what price?" Janeway exclaimed, looking from Tuvok to Hayes in consternation. "I don't need to remind you what the Vidiians are capab—"  
  
"The Phage is cured, Captain," Tuovk interrupted. "We were notified of this fact by the group known as the Think Tank while we were still in the Delta Quadrant. And now there is independent confirmation from Denara Pel. The Vidiians are no longer a threat in that respect."  
  
The name of Denara Pel brought Janeway up short. Forcing her mind away from images of another _Voyager_ being overrun by Vidiian organ harvesters, Janeway said, "So what is _Voyager_'s intended role in all this is? To transport Kes and her people to the planet? One million Ocampa—just a rough estimate, for all we know their population is much greater—would take _years_ for a single ship to move."  
  
"We are not talking about transporting the population, but maintaining a protective presence and rendering general forms of assistance," Hayes said, speaking for the first time in several minutes. He had seemed content to let Tuvok lead the discussion, but clearly felt it was time to step in now. "The Ocampa will move on their own and _Voyager_ _II_ will help them in setting up defenses, weather grids, power generators, that sort of thing."  
  
"I see," Janeway said slowly. "And what about our original mission, sir?"  
  
Hayes walked over to the window and gazed out at the bleak January day, then swung around to face her once again. "That will still happen, Captain. But you would eventually have to deal with the Vidiians anyway once you arrive in that region of space—as well as with the other native species. This joint request by the Ocampa and Vidiians provides a good opening. Starfleet is being asked to come, invited by one of the major players. We won't be perceived as interlopers."  
  
_At least not right away,_ Janeway thought, but did not say it out loud.  
  
"Of course," Hayes said briskly, "As I was saying to Commander Tuvok right before you got here, we don't know if we can entirely take things at face value, that the situation is precisely as it's been presented so far. We have established a communication link and spoken to some Vidiian officials--the Sodality I believe they call themselves--as well as one or two of their ranking industrialists. They're eager for us to come, Captain, as eager as the Ocampa are. They have some problems of their own we may be able to help with, and have already mentioned the possibility of an exchange of technology and information."  
  
Janeway nodded. All of Hayes' arguments made sense. Even with her private misgivings about the Vidiians, she had to admit that this opportunity could not be passed up.  
  
"Although their motives appear to be pure," Hayes said with only a trace of irony in his voice, "we've decided that it would not be prudent to have you going back there alone. I'm sending a second ship with you—the _Odyssey_. Like _Voyager_ II, it's a Columbia class vessel, to be outfitted with the new transwarp drive. It's a few months behind your ship in terms of construction."  
  
"Who will be in command of the _Odyssey_, sir?" Janeway asked.  
  
"You will be in charge of the overall mission, Captain," Hayes said immediately, answering her unspoken question. "Captain Geordi La Forge will be in command of the _Odyssey_. He's an excellent officer. Although he's never held a field command before, he's headed up a variety of research teams, plus he's garnered immeasurable experience serving on Picard's senior staff for nearly fifteen years before that. He's someone who's intelligent and can think on his feet. He should do quite well." Hayes smiled. "We will also make sure he has experienced personnel on his staff who are familiar with the Delta Quadrant."  
  
Hayes paused a moment to let his last statement sink in. "As you guessed at the beginning of this meeting, the launch date for the mission has been pushed back again. Instead of February, it'll likely be sometime in June, as the _Odyssey_ needs additional time to get ready. In the meantime, we're going to collect every scrap of information we can about the regional politics. Ambassador Neelix is already giving us the name of numerous contacts. You can be damned sure we're not going to take anything for granted that we can't verify for ourselves."  
  
"A wise choice, Admiral," Tuvok said.  
  
"Like you, Kathryn, I don't care for surprises, especially of the unpleasant variety," Hayes said. "Dismissed."  
  
As the door closed behind them, Janeway turned to Tuvok. "Would you like to get a cup of coffee and catch up a bit?"  
  
"That would be agreeable," Tuvok said. "It has been a long time since we have had the opportunity to speak."  
  
"I've been very busy with preparations for the mission, spending most of my time at Utopia Planitia these days," she said as they walked to the turbolift. "But I wasn't even aware you were on Earth."  
  
"I would have contacted you earlier, Captain," Tuvok said somewhat apologetically, "but due to the sensitive nature of my recent activities—"  
  
"It's all right, Tuvok," she said at once, pushing down her irritation at being kept out of the loop for so long on a matter that had direct bearing on her ship and mission. "You're right, I would have asked what you were doing here and you would not have been able to answer."  
  
They made small talk on their way across Starfleet grounds—having mutually decided to pass up the Starfleet commissary in favor of a 'decent' cup of coffee—with Janeway doing most of the talking, bringing Tuvok up to date on Chakotay's recent projects at the university.  
  
It wasn't until they were seated at a table in the Night Owl that Janeway broached the subject that was on her mind. "The fact that you're in uniform, Tuvok—are you back in Starfleet?" She tried to keep the hopeful note out of her voice.  
  
He did not answer directly. "I have been serving in an advisory role to members of Starfleet regarding the Vidiians and in assisting them to set up their half of the communication device."  
  
Janeway swallowed her disappointment. She knew what answer she wanted to hear from him. "And you were in telepathic communication with Kes."  
  
"Yes, as difficult as that may be for some to believe." Tuvok elaborated on his initial contacts with Kes, how at first all he had was the vague sense of a Presence, and it was only later, through the intervention of the Fluidians—the aliens she knew as Species 8472—that they were able to communicate on a much higher level.  
  
Janeway listened to his recital, shaking her head slightly at the thought of dealing with yet another group of aliens with whom _Voyager_ had had hostile—or less than friendly, at any rate—encounters in the past. But in all honesty, what else had she expected? She knew quite well that a return to the Delta Quadrant was going to be challenging. There was no such thing as a dull moment in Starfleet, regardless of where you served.  
  
She signaled to the waitress to refill their cups. "Enough talk about Starfleet and the mission for now," she said firmly. "I want you to tell me about Kes—how she's doing." She smiled. "It will be good to see her again."

* * *

**  
** _Chapter written by Rocky_


	2. Act 1--Planning a New Course

**_Act 1—Planning a New Course_  
  
*2***  
  
**Starfleet Headquarters, Meeting of the General Staff-January 24, 2381, Stardate 57064.2**  
  
The noise level in the chamber was deafening; so much for the belief that a meeting of the Starfleet General Staff was always conducted in a decorous fashion. Janeway exchanged glances with Geordi La Forge. Of the twenty people present, the two of them were the only individuals with a rank lower than Admiral. And the only two who weren't currently expressing their opinions at the top of their lungs (or gills).  
  
Despite the seriousness of the situation, Janeway had to stifle a grin as La Forge rolled his eyes and whispered, "Now I know why Captain Picard has resisted being promoted for so long!"  
  
"I certainly would go insane if I had to deal with this group on a regular basis," Janeway agreed. She looked around at the room; to her left, Leon Toddman, the Head of Starfleet Security, was berating Owen Paris about procedure. At her immediate left, William Ross was arguing with Norman Blanc. She was glad she couldn't make out more than a few distinct phrases from that particular "conversation."  
  
"Gives you a greater appreciation for how tough it is to be Commander-in-Chief," La Forge said. "It's not just Admiral Cobum who's unhappy, though I think most of the others were all right until Hayes brought up the plans for the colony." He shifted slightly in his seat. "I'm still not quite sure what I'm doing at this meeting."  
  
"You're the captain of the _Odyssey_—" Janeway began.  
  
"But I haven't got your level of expertise regarding the Delta Quadrant—yet," La Forge said with a wry smile. "I don't have much that's useful to contribute to this discussion."  
  
"Neither do I," Janeway muttered, more to herself than to him.  
  
"Order! I will have order!" Hayes said loudly from the front of the room, tapping once more on the podium with his gavel. That ceremonial object was certainly seeing a lot more use today than was usual. Gradually the Admirals quieted down.  
  
Hayes addressed the red-faced Bart Cobum. "Let me repeat, no 'secret deals' were reached—with any Delta Quadrant species. The Federation President's office was contacted as soon as Commander Tuvok brought the matter to our attention. I assure you that the civilian diplomatic corps has been involved from the outset. As far as other Starfleet personnel were concerned, the information was strictly on a 'need to know' basis. The General Staff has now been briefed as to the full extent of the situation with Vidiia, as well as the Ocampa. I promise you, nothing is being concealed."  
  
Admiral Cobum sank back into his seat, apparently mollified—at least for the moment—but another voice rang out.  
  
"The initial reports we received from the first _Voyager_ regarding that particular region of the Delta Quadrant sounded bad enough," said Cal Bullock. He was a dramatic speaker, with a commanding manner and crisp diction. "I still marvel that our people survived to make it back home, but they were highly trained Starfleet officers. And now we hear the situation has apparently deteriorated even more. It's one thing to send Starfleet vessels into the fray. But I cannot believe you are seriously considering putting a group of civilians in the midst of those troubles!"  
  
"Not all of the _Voyager_ crew were Starfleet," Alynna Nechayev observed dryly. "Fully one third of them were Maquis."  
  
Bullock waved her words away. "The Maquis weren't exactly strangers to adversarial conditions, either. But the idea of planting a Federation colony—including civilians and children—in the Delta Quadrant is preposterous!"  
  
Admiral T'Lara, a tall Vulcan woman, said, "Stripped of its excessive emotional content, Admiral Bullock's point is indeed valid. I fail to see the logic behind this proposal."  
  
"Aiding the Ocampa is one thing," Toddman agreed. "But it is premature to speak of establishing a colony of our own people on the same planet, leaving them open to attack."  
  
Gelb cocked his head to one side, his gill slits twitching slightly, his epidural scales glittering as they caught the light. "The Federation could establish a diplomatic embassy in the region, p-p-perhaps," the Nereid said in a conciliatory tone. "B-b-but not a colony." The other admirals murmured in agreement.  
  
Ross exchanged glances with Hayes before speaking. "Establishing a Federation colony in the Delta Quadrant sends a message that the Federation is interested and involved for the long haul, not just darting in, imposing our will on the region and then vanishing again."  
  
"It sends a message, all right," Blanc said sourly. "The Romulans will jump all over this, claiming this reveals the truth about Federation 'expansionist' ambitions in the Delta Quadrant. Just as they have already complained about the new deep space station we established last year in the Gamma Quadrant."  
  
Nechayev pursed her lips in disapproval. "Let them complain if they wish. They can establish their own posts in the Delta Quadrant—as they have on half a dozen worlds in the Gamma Quadrant."  
  
Rachel Teller, the oldest person present, raised her eyebrows questioningly. "The Gamma Quadrant is readily accessible via the Bajoran wormhole, but practical travel to the Delta Quadrant requires transwarp—which only Starfleet has," she pointed out.  
  
"Are you going to then make this technology available to the Romulans?" Toddman said immediately. "Really, I must register an official ob—"  
  
"We're getting off track here," Hayes said, raising his voice over the din. "We have already agreed on the necessity of sending two ships, _Voyager_ II and _Odyssey_, to the region to reestablish ties with the Vidiian Sodality and to aid the Ocampa in their relocation to New Earth. The proposal on the table at present is to send a colony ship, 500 families, including a fair share of both current and former Starfleet officers in addition." He looked around the chamber, as if daring anyone to interrupt. Blanc stirred in his seat, but did not speak. "We would need to have a garrison on the planet anyway—as has been pointed out repeatedly, it's a dangerous region of space." His gaze rested on Janeway for a moment. "And any officers assigned to defense duty would be posted there for a long interval. Despite transwarp, it's still a relatively long journey to the Delta Quadrant. Why not allow them to bring their families along?"  
  
"That's quite a number of people to transport," Teller said thoughtfully. "Would _Voyager_ and _Odyssey_ be able to accommodate that many individuals, as well as the materials and equipment they would require for a colony?"  
  
Hayes nodded to the Head of Starship Fabrication and Design, who was perched rather precariously on a special bench near the podium.  
  
Ch'tin raised his short body up on his midlegs in order to be seen by all those assembled. His mandibles clicked together rhythmically as he said, "We are currently in the process of building other transwarp ships. _Odyssey_ is _Voyager__ II's _sister ship, both Columbia class. A third ship is in the preliminary stages of construction, but it wouldn't be too difficult to simply install the transwarp drive meant for this vessel in a freighter class ship instead. One of the Conestoga class vessels—the _Pioneer_, I believe it is named—is far enough along in its own construction right now at the UP shipyards that it could be readily converted."  
  
"All of this is very well and good," Bullock objected again, "But what about the risks posed by the Vidiians? Can they honestly be trusted?" He looked challengingly around the room. "Look at their track record in how they deal with other species. In their own way, they're much worse than the Borg. At least the Borg were interested in assimilating other cultures and technologies—the Vidiians simply view other races as a collection of spare parts."  
  
Hayes turned to Janeway. "Why don't you answer this one, Captain? You are, after all, the only person in this room who has had first-hand experience with the Vidiians."  
  
Uncomfortable at being put on the spot like this—and forced to defend a policy about which she had mixed feelings—Janeway nonetheless rose and said, "It is true that I have had a number of encounters with the Vidiians, many of them unpleasant. I saw members of my crew captured and in some cases killed for their organs." A few gasps were heard. Owen Paris nodded dourly.  
  
"You see?" demanded Bullock.  
  
Janeway continued, "However, even at the height of this 'reign of terror', not all of the Vidiians could be viewed as 'evil.' The fact that I am standing here before you today is solely due to the compassion and generosity of specific Vidiian individuals." She paused. "In the second year of our journey, my first officer and I contracted a fatal viral infection, for which our chief medical officer could find no cure. _Voyager_ was forced to leave us behind on the planet and continue the journey without us. But it was Dr. Denara Pel—the same Dr. Pel who has been in contact with us now and is one of the leading voices behind the Vidiian request for Federation assistance—who obtained the vaccine which enabled us to rejoin our crew."  
  
"And the Phage is no longer an issue," Hayes cut in. "Correct?"  
  
"Yes," Janeway said. "And it is my understanding that as a result, the entire Vidiian culture has undergone a 'sea change', if you will. Although I cannot state with any degree of certainty that they no longer present a threat—" Janeway steadfastly avoided meeting Hayes' eyes, "—I can say that I do not think the nature of the risk is the same as it once was. I also know that Kes, who was a valued and trusted member of my crew, has spent a great deal of time with the Vidiians in recent months and assures us of their trustworthiness. And I trust Kes—with my life, as well as the lives of my crew."  
  
Toddman shook his head. "I'm glad you feel that way, Captain Janeway, and are heartened by this woman's assurances, but the Ocampa are the reason the Federation is being called in to intercede in the first place! They can't even help themselves; it's ludicrous to think a single Ocampan female—a pretty elderly one at that—could possibly be of any use in this situation."  
  
Janeway thought for an instant how best to explain. "Kes is a lot more than what she seems, sir."  
  
"Ah yes, we've heard about her amazing mental abilities, which is how she managed to contact us in the first place," said Teller with sudden animation. "Are you suggesting she's somewhat similar to the Q? They aren't exactly known for their altruism."  
  
"In the past year Kes has thoroughly scouted the area, has a clear view of what the situation is," Janeway said, sidestepping Teller's question. "In addition, there are other races in the vicinity, like the Talaxians or the Haakonians, who could be called upon to help."  
  
"Which brings up another point," Will Patterson said, speaking for the first time. "Other races in the area. What about the Kazon and Trabe? Aren't they still considered hostile and dangerous?"  
  
Hayes interceded again. "The answer to your question, Will, is that yes, there is a lot of potential danger in the region. Which is why the Federation needs to take up a permanent position there."  
  
"B-b-but what about the original mission?" asked Gelb. "Has it b-b-been abandoned in favor of p-p-peace keeping?"  
  
"The mission has not been abandoned, rather enhanced," Hayes said at once. "_Odyssey_ and _Voyager_ will still be doing a lot of exploration in the area. We will still be renewing ties with the Boirii."  
  
"And the Boirii themselves are another reason in favor of establishing a colony on New Earth," Nechayev added. "There is already a human enclave not too far away."  
  
Hayes nodded. "Are there any other objections?"  
  
Bullock gave him a look, but did not say anything further.  
  
"I have a question," T'Lara said, turning to Ch'tin. "One of logistics. How long will it take to get all the ships ready? And in terms of recruiting personnel for the new colony..."  
  
Janeway ignored the Locastan's detailed answer—a summary of which she had already seen two days earlier in Admiral Hayes' office—and turned her mind to more immediate concerns. She refocused her attention when she realized Hayes was speaking once more.  
  
"So it appears we are looking at a new launch date toward the end of June. We will be able to firm this up in the next several weeks." Hayes tapped his gavel once more. "This meeting is dismissed."  
  
La Forge rose to his feet and sighed with relief. "Finally." He turned to her. "Are you heading back to UP this afternoon, Kathryn? Or do you plan on just staying in San Francisco and taking an early shuttle tomorrow morning?"  
  
"I'm going to be staying," she said apologetically. "I have plans for the evening."  
  
"All right." He flashed her a grin. "I hope you and Chakotay have a good time. I'll see you tomorrow."  
  
"Bye, Geordi." Janeway waited until the rest of the admirals had filed out, glad to see that Hayes still remained by the podium. The Commander-in-Chief appeared to be studying a stack of PADDs. Janeway hadn't exactly lied to Geordi when she said she had plans, but they did not involve Chakotay. Or anything remotely social in nature.  
  
"Admiral Hayes," she said as she approached. "May I speak with you for a few moments?"  
  
"Not another word, Kathryn," Hayes said, lifting up his hand. Up close, she could see the lines of fatigue on his face. "I already know what you plan to say, so you might as well save your breath. We are committed to dealing with the Vidiians—hell, we've already begun to work with them, as the communication device attests."  
  
"This isn't about the Vidiians, sir," Janeway said.  
  
"It's not?" he said in surprise. "I know you still have misgivings."  
  
"Admiral Bullock already voiced those objections much more emphatically than I possibly could have," she said dryly.  
  
"More vehemently, you mean," Hayes muttered to himself. "Then what is this about?"  
  
"Personnel matters for the mission."  
  
"It's already been decided that Geordi La Forge is the best man to captain the _Odyssey_," Hayes said with a frown. "He's eager for the assignment, and he's already put in a tremendous amount of time and effort..."  
  
"I have no objections to Geordi," Janeway assured him swiftly. "And I agree with you. I think the two of us will be able to work together very well."  
  
"Good," Hayes said, mollified. She suspected he'd had enough disagreements today to last him for quite a while. "Then what is this about?"  
  
"I want to have Commander Tuvok assigned as my first officer."  
  
"You already have a first officer," Hayes said in surprise.  
  
Janeway nodded. "Yes, Commander Merves is a fine officer, but Tuvok was always my first choice for the position."  
  
"Tuvok resigned his Starfleet commission last May," Hayes reminded her. "His being in uniform now simply reflects his special assignment status." He exhaled sharply, perhaps recognizing the determined expression on her face. "How do you know if Tuvok would even be interested? He had very specific reasons for resigning last year."  
  
"I know that, sir. I also happen to know that those reasons are no longer valid."  
  
"What are you saying?" Hayes said, anger clouding his features when the meaning of her words sank in. "I also want to know how you could have the temerity to have already discussed this with Tuvok when you know another officer has been assigned to _Voyager_!"  
  
"With all due respect, Admiral Hayes," Janeway retorted, "this is something Tuvok mentioned to me a long time ago. Even before you offered me the _Voyager_ _II_, I asked him if he would ever consider returning to active duty. Tuvok resigned from Starfleet because he wanted to avoid another separation from his wife T'Pel. But that wouldn't be the case here, not with the change in the mission objectives."  
  
"Are you suggesting you should bring her along?"  
  
"Why not?" Janeway insisted. "As per the original mission parameters, we already have a civilian team of archaeologists and anthropologists accompanying us. With her background in comparative sociology, T'Pel is ideally suited to be a member of this team. She can also make useful contributions in the negotiations among the Vidiians, the Federation colonists and the Ocampa."  
  
"We've already contacted our top diplomat, who will be conducting those negotiations as well as acting as governor of the colony for the first year," Hayes said at once. "Any decisions about his staff will obviously have to be made by Ambassador Diaza." He sighed. "But I agree with your first point. T'Pel_ is _qualified to be a member of the civilian research team." He smiled briefly. "I suspect Chakotay would concur."  
  
"Then you'll agree to her assignment?" And by extension, Tuvok's. Janeway mentally held her breath.  
  
Hayes gave her a piercing look. "I'm still not very happy about your display of independence here, and I wouldn't hesitate to bust you down in rank for it, except for the fact that you happen to be right. Starship captains _do_ have the right to pick their first officers, and most of the senior staff positions, unless there are other extenuating circumstances involved." He passed a weary hand over his face. "But the problem is still Commander Merves—he deserves this position. He's a full commander and has served as a first officer for a number of years already. He acquitted himself very well in the Dominion War, even held his own command as a brevet captain in the latter months. It's just not fair to pass him over on a whim."  
  
"I understand, sir, and you're correct," Janeway said evenly, though this was not a "whim." She needed Tuvok; she would have a lot more confidence in the successful completion of the mission if he were by her side. "But there is a way out of the dilemma. After all, there is a _third_ ship going to the Delta Quadrant."  
  
"Give Merves command of the _Pioneer_?" Hayes said, considering. "I'll have to think about this some more, but at first glance, it does seem to be a perfect solution."  
  
"Thank you, sir."  
  
"Don't thank me yet, Kathryn," he warned her. "You still don't know if Tuvok would be interested in serving under you again."  
  
Janeway smiled. "Don't worry, Admiral. I'm sure."  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter written by Rocky


	3. Hellstone Mining Colony--Jim Morrow

***3***  
  
**Hellstone Mining Colony-February 5, Stardate 57096.9**  
  
Jim Morrow woke up drunk. He was used to waking up hung over, but it was a new experience to wake up still ripped. Flat on his back on the damp ground, he saw the gray sky swirl above him—at least, he thought the sky was swirling. There was a good chance the churning was actually in his brain. And his stomach.  
  
_Only one thing for it,_ he thought. Not bothering to sit up, he raised the bottle he still clutched to his mouth and took another sip. His hand shook so much that the red liquid splashed across his face, and more of it landed in his nose than his mouth. The rotgut cut a swath of flame up his nostrils into his sinuses. He bolted up, snorting and shaking his head. His hands hit the ground hard, and he heard the sound of glass shattering.  
  
When he could breathe again, he lifted the hand that still clutched the neck of the bottle. That was all that was left, seven centimeters of a narrow glass cylinder, sheared to a v-point. The rest of it was scattered beside him, with a red puddle that was dimpled even as it sank into the grass.  
  
He stared at the puddle for a long time, trying to understand the dimples. Finally, he realized that it was raining. "Of course it's raining," he said aloud. "It rains every morning on this stinkin' swamp."  
  
Opening his fingers, he let the bottleneck drop and turned his face skyward. Closing his eyes, he let the rain thoroughly wet his face before he rubbed it vigorously. Then he ran his fingers through his hair. It was what he called a shower these days.  
  
A low rumble from the west caused him to freeze, and then look upward. _There it was. The daily ore transport, its atmospheric thrusters flaming, was lifting off on its way to—to—_His mind worked frantically. This was the second day of the week, so the ship was bound for Andor Prime—unless he'd passed out for an entire day, which would mean it was heading for Bajor. But no, he wouldn't still be drunk if he'd been out that long. It was definitely heading for Andor. Every morning, just after dawn, another ship left for a world nearer the heart of the Federation. Every morning, he sat on this hill and watched them leave.  
  
He kept his eyes glued on the ship until it disappeared into the clouds, and for a moment longer. He wasn't sure why he came and watched every day. It wasn't like he was ever going back. There was nothing for him on Earth any more. There was nothing for him anywhere.  
  
His hand brushed against the discarded bottle neck and he picked it up. The break had been clean, leaving a sharp "v" shape that looked as lethal as any knife. He dragged the tip of the "v" lightly over the pad of his left index finger and was fascinated to see tiny beads of blood. The skin was heavily callused, and yet it had been broken so effortlessly.  
  
Fascinated, he studied the edge of the glass, noting a smear red that was too thick to be the booze. Then, slowly, he brushed it along the flat of his outer wrist. More tiny beads of blood appeared almost at once. If it did that to the hardier outer skin, what would it do the more vulnerable inner wrist? How hard would he have to press—  
  
"There you are."  
  
The unexpected voice startled him, and he dropped the shard. Twisting his head over his shoulder, he saw that Sergeant Rado, the only Bajoran on the godforsaken planet, was standing over him, wearing a dark waterproof coat that already sported tiny streams of rain. Jim liked Rado; he was corrupt, but predictably corrupt, and that was as close to integrity as anyone came to on the aptly-named Hellstone Colony.  
  
Twisting that way made his stomach lurch, so Jim carefully turned his head forward again. "Don't tell me I'm trespassing."  
  
"As a matter of fact, you are," Rado said, but mildly. He sat down on the wet grass on Jim's left. "This is the property of the Hellstone Mining and Excavation Consortium."  
  
"And I'm an employee of said landowner." His sincerity was marred by a deep and vocal burp.  
  
"You _were_ an employee. You were fired yesterday. Or have you managed to forget that already?"  
  
_Small planet,_ Jim thought. _News travels fast._ "Yeah, well I'm sure that's just a misunderstanding that will all get straightened out."  
  
"I don't think so. You show up for work drunk four days in a row, and you're out." Rado studied the horizon. "Guess you've got a pretty good view of the transport here."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"It would be an excellent idea," Rado said, not looking at him, "if tomorrow, you checked out the view of this hill from the transport."  
  
Jim felt certain that what Rado said probably made sense, but his befuddled brain couldn't sort it out. "What?"  
  
"Be on the transport tomorrow."  
  
"Oh." He croaked a laugh and collapsed on the wet ground, closing his eyes against the drizzle. "Can't."  
  
"Yes, you can."  
  
Something small and heavy hit his chest, and Jim opened his eyes. A small pouch now sat on his ribs, perched at an angle. He grasped it in one hand and felt its heft. Puzzled, he looked up at Rado.  
  
"Thirty credits," the guard said. "The cost of a one-way berth on the Bajor transport."  
  
Feeling stupid, Jim sat up slowly, staring at the pouch. "But I can't--"  
  
Rado stood. "You can. And you will. Because if you're still here tomorrow afternoon, I'll arrest you for theft and throw you in a cell so deep you won't be able to remember the sun."  
  
He turned and took three long strides before Jim managed to say, "Why?" Rado wasn't exactly known as a soft touch.  
  
The Bajoran turned, but said nothing. He just looked at Jim and kept looking at him, his face slowly hardening into an expression of disgust. Jim suddenly became acutely aware of the rain dripping off his nose and his tattered clothes and his greasy hair. Finally Rado spoke. "Because you've just hit bottom, Jimmy. You can't get any lower than you are right now."  
  
He squatted down so he was at eye-level. "There's only two things that happen at the bottom. You find a way to adapt, or you don't. I've seen a lot of people down here, and I don't think you're going to adapt. You just aren't that kind."  
  
Jim swallowed hard. He knew what Rado meant about adapting. There were no social support networks on Hellstone, no charities, no safe havens. If you wanted to eat, you worked. And if you got fired by the Company, which hired anyone willing to work in the dark tunnels 12 hours a day, there weren't many career opportunities. If he was lucky, he could find work as a bouncer or even a janitor for one of the bars. If he wasn't lucky, he could end up working the cribs above the bars. "I...I'll make it okay."  
  
"No you won't." Rado didn't hesitate. "You're barely making it now. You just don't have enough give in you to stay this low." He shook his head. "I've seen others like you. Sooner or later, they wind up in the morgue. I don't want to open a slab one day and see you on it. Get out of here, Jimmy. Whatever you were running from, it's not as bad as this."  
  
Then he stood again and walked away. Jim didn't try to call him back this time.  
  
_"Whatever you were running from," _Rado said. Jim huffed once, a dry chuckle that didn't quite take. He was running from Jim Morrow, ex-Starfleeter, and he had finally figured out he was going to lose that race. Crewman Morrow was always there, just half a step behind him.  
  
Looking toward the spaceport, he thought about Bajor. Angelo Tessoni was there, and Celes. Some of the others from _Voyager_, maybe. If they had figured out how to start over, perhaps they could show him how.  
  
He tried to stand and slipped on the wet grass, but finally he righted himself. His hand clutched the pouch tightly. Thirty credits. It could go a long way, maybe a month even, if he didn't drink more than a bottle a night.  
  
As he started up the hill, he remembered—Rado had promised to arrest him if he were still here tomorrow night. He stopped, and tried to organize his thoughts. The jails on Hellstone weren't like Starfleet's clean, convenient brigs. They were the subject of local legend, with their damp and mildewed stone walls, almost medieval in construction. It was said that there were still a few skeletons huddled in corners, men who were simply "forgotten" by the local authorities.  
  
After a moment, he turned and started downhill. If he bought his passage now, he couldn't blow the money before tomorrow. As he headed for the spaceport, he thought about just how far thirty credits could go. They could go at least as far as Bajor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter written by Penny


	4. Starfleet Housing Complex--Janeway and Chakotay

  
***4***  
  
**Starfleet Housing Complex, San Francisco-February 9, Stardate 57108.4**  
  
"You know, it's funny, Kathryn," Chakotay said as he handed her a glass of wine.  
  
She settled herself comfortably onto the sofa in their living room and waited for him to continue. They had all evening—a rare treat these days, she thought wryly—and they'd decided to spend it at home. They'd set up this "date" several weeks ago, after Chakotay had been called to the university lab during dinner for the second time in as many days. When he'd finally returned home at two a.m. he had found Kathryn asleep at her desk, surrounded by a jumble of PADDs and blueprints and three cups of very cold coffee. He'd decided then and there something had to be done and composed and entered a formal invitation onto the PADD, labeled "urgent," which lay just beside her elbow. He'd kissed her awake and led her to bed and was gone before she woke the next morning.  
  
Chakotay, his own glass of chilled Hestran Riesling in hand, sat down beside her.  
  
"Now that it's actually official, and you and I are both on our way back there, I can admit it."  
  
"Admit what?" She took a sip of her wine and nodded in appreciation. "Mmmm, this is good, Chakotay, just the right temperature."  
  
He grinned at her. "I finally figured out the settings on the new cooler and relabeled all of them. This one's marked KJ." She laughed, batted at his knee and took another sip.  
  
"I never thought I'd say it," he continued, "but I'm actually looking forward to going back to the Delta Quadrant."  
  
He felt her shift slightly to look at him.  
  
"Oh, don't worry," he said quickly, "I know things are going to be very different this time, and believe me, I'm not looking to recapture or relive anything. As a matter of fact, there are a lot of memories from those years I'd just as soon forget forever. But Kathryn, there's so much we can learn out there. The anthropologist in me is chomping at the bit to get out there. "  
  
"Not to mention the archaeologist," Kathryn teased him. "If you're going to spend the entire mission digging in the dirt and looking under rocks..."  
  
"That's exactly what I'm going to do," he replied with a laugh. "And I'm going to have a team of experts out there with me doing the exact same thing. "  
  
"Oh, no! I can just imagine what's going to happen." Janeway sat up straight and gave an exaggerated sigh. "_Voyager_ to the away team," she said, her tone suddenly captain-like. "Please return to the ship. We're underway in fourteen minutes and there's a hostile ship approaching on the port side." She grinned at him and continued in a lower tone. "Just give me three more minutes, Captain. We've found a fossil..."  
  
Chakotay laughed again. "I promise I won't do that," he said, and took another sip of his wine. "At least, not _too_ often."  
  
They both settled back onto the sofa and into comfortable silence.  
  
After a few minutes Chakotay took Kathryn's now empty glass and placed it, along with his own, on the table beside them. He turned back to face her. Her eyes were closed, but he knew she wasn't asleep.  
  
"There are a few other enticing factors about this mission, you know," he said quietly.  
  
"Hmmmm...." Janeway's eyes remained closed, but she reached for his hand.  
  
"Kes," She said immediately.  
  
Chakotay squeezed her hand. "Yes, and Tom and B'Elanna and Miral and the others..."  
  
"That will be nice, won't it?" she replied quietly.  
  
"I've started thinking about the team I'm going to assemble, and it's going to be a good one. There are even a couple of students I'm considering. "  
  
"I know T'Pel will be an incredible asset on this mission—for you and for me," Kathryn said. "And for Tuvok, of course." She added.  
  
"And there's another thing," he said. "It may not be that cabin in the woods that I've talked about, and I know you and I are probably both going to be busier with our work than we've ever been, but we're going to be together. And we'll probably be able to do this" he gestured, indicating their present situation, "far more often than we can now."  
  
She opened her eyes and smiled at him. "Do you think I haven't thought about that?" she asked. "It's kept me from phasering more than a few colleagues recently. I just want to finish all the preparations and get out of here and underway. With you."  
  
Chakotay got up and retrieved the bottle of wine from the cooler. He poured the rest of it into their glasses and handed Kathryn hers.  
  
"You know Kathryn, I've been thinking," he said, after he'd sat back down beside her.  
  
She cocked an eyebrow and grinned. "Really?"  
  
He ignored her and continued. "We're going back to New Earth," he said, "And I don't know about you, but I've got a soft spot in my heart for that particular planet."  
  
She didn't reply, but took his hand again.  
  
"I'd like to propose something," he said. "What would you think if we...."  
  
He leaned over and began to whisper in her ear.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter written by CyberMum


	5. Ayala Family Quarters

  
***5***  
  
**Ayala Family Quarters, Deep Space Nine-March 4, Stardate 57172.8**  
  
"Hey Dad," Raul shouted before the door had even closed behind Michael Ayala. "I got an excellent on my math test!"  
  
Ayala grinned. "That's great." He took the offered PADD and read it. "Wow. This is tough stuff." Raul's smile grew even bigger. He hugged his son. Marit would have been so proud. He looked up when Luis harrumphed with a pained look of disgust at Raul's glee.  
  
"Mr. Paris called," his older boy said.  
  
"He said," Raul interrupted, "that it was up to you if I could learn to fly. Please." Raul dragged that last word out.  
  
"Tom is a very busy man," Ayala said. He looked back at Luis. "Did he leave a message?" He wondered if perhaps B'Elanna might be pregnant. He'd only heard from Tom a few times in the past year.  
  
"Nope," Luis said as he returned to his homework. "Just that you were to call him when you got home."  
  
Ayala made a quick calculation, and then frowned. He could never remember if it was sixteen hours earlier or thirteen where Tom was.  
  
He'd contact Tom in a bit. "How was your day?" he asked Luis.  
  
"Okay." Luis didn't look up from his book. "Mr. Paris did say it was important."  
  
"Important?" Ayala stared at his son, but it was Raul who grabbed his hand.  
  
"He said he had a job for you and that we could come."  
  
Luis swatted at Raul's head. Raul ducked. "Actually, he said that _Voyager_'s mission has been changed and you might be interested. Raul is the one who asked if we can go."  
  
"Well, he didn't say no," Raul said as he stuck out his tongue. "Can we?"  
  
"First let me find out what Tom has to say," Ayala said, with another frown. _Voyager_'s original mission was to return to the Delta Quadrant, which would mean a separation from his children, something he absolutely refused to consider. They were comfortable here on Deep Space Nine and were building a good life for themselves. Being so close to Bajor, especially Kajee Narel, was another plus. Even though the reminders of war and loss were always present, The Prophets knew both his boys—but especially Luis—needed stability more than anything else. Being an absentee father was out of the question.  
  
"But he said lots of families were going to the Delta Quadrant!" Raul burst out. "Why can't we go, too?"  
  
"First, we're going to eat dinner," Ayala said firmly. "Then later this evening—or maybe tomorrow morning—I will speak to Tom and find out what this is all about." Privately, he doubted that Tom's offer had anything to do with _Voyager_. Raul, in his excitement, had probably gotten Tom's mission on _Voyager_ mixed up with whatever this new posting was. He noticed that Luis was only pretending to read his history book. "If I_ did_ get a new posting on a ship, one that allowed families, would you be interested?"  
  
"YES!" Raul shouted then started to leap again. Ayala continued to look at Luis.  
  
"Maybe," Luis finally said with another annoyed look at his younger brother.  
  
Ayala knew that was about as enthusiastic response as he could expect from Luis. He clapped his younger boy on the shoulder. "Don't get your hopes up, son. I don't know what this mission entails."  
  
Raul jumped with joy, and landed on Ayala's right foot. "Raul," Luis said, "you're a pest."  
  
"Am not!" the younger boy said as he stuck his tongue out yet again.  
  
Ayala rolled his eyes. The boys usually got along, but every so often..."Raul, you're not a pest, you're just too excited. I...I mean we haven't agreed to anything. I don't even know what it's all about."  
  
"What about Kajee?" Raul asked, with a sudden frown. "Would she be able to come with us, too?"  
  
A quick change of subject was in order, Ayala decided. "Go wash up, boys. Dinner will be ready in a moment." As he punched his commands into the replicator he thought to himself that he'd contact Tom after the boys went to school in the morning.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter written by Christina


	6. Voyager II--Captain's Ready Room

*6*

Voyager II, Utopia Planitia-March 4, Stardate 57173.5

Kathryn Janeway settled into the chair behind her desk, a cup of black coffee in hand. Her ready room still wasn't finished—another coat of paint and the final bits of carpeting were yet to be added—but at least water wasn't dripping on her head any more. Now she wanted to start making the place her own. Though she hadn't had a chance to fill all the drawers yet, let alone add any personal touches, her desk was already littered with nearly a dozen data PADDS containing status reports from various departments and systems throughout the ship. She smiled wryly at the evidence of the work she had to do today. She actually looked forward to it. Much as she'd enjoyed her students, she'd missed the pressures—and joys--of starship life.

She leaned back and raised her cup to her lips, feeling very satisfied, and musing that her new chair was becoming nearly as comfortable as her old one had been, now that she was starting to work it in.

Kathryn's coffee sloshed against her lips as the ready room door slid open unexpectedly and her chief engineer stormed in. She winced a little, since the coffee was hot, and noted B'Elanna's disturbed expression as the engineer strode toward her desk.

"I don't recall issuing an invitation," Kathryn said mildly, "but come in anyway."

B'Elanna's stride didn't slow. "Captain, I'm sorry to barge in, but I couldn't wait any longer. I've been thinking about this for days, and I know it may not be my place to say anything, but I have to get this off my chest."

"B'Elanna." Kathryn interrupted the steady stream of words. "Slow down. Does this have something to do with Engineering?"

She'd just started getting fully up-to-date on everything, but from the latest reports, Kathryn had assumed B'Elanna had the engineering department well in hand. B'Elanna confirmed it by shaking her head. "It doesn't have anything to do with the ship. It's about this new mission. I have some serious reservations, and I can't keep silent any longer."

Kathryn raised her hand before B'Elanna could continue. She stood and motioned to the couch. "Let's sit down."

"I don't think—"

"Commander, sit." Kathryn used her firmest tone, which brooked no refusal. She walked to the replicator while B'Elanna reluctantly sat. A few moments later she sat too, and handed B'Elanna a cup of raktajino.

"All right." Kathryn settled her cup of coffee in her lap and allowed a few moments to pass. She'd been expecting this, and she hadn't yet formulated a response, given that she had many of the same doubts B'Elanna probably did. "I expect you to have reservations about this mission. I have a few myself."

"Then why didn't you insist we stick with the original mission, instead of letting Starfleet brass stick their noses into something they don't understand?"

Kathryn ignored the fact that she was, to all intents and purposes, "Starfleet brass" herself. As a captain she played a part in the decision-making process. Maybe she couldn't resurrect a mission that had already been scrapped, but she could have turned down this new one. And, most likely, received a transfer to command another ship. She sighed. "Believe me, it wasn't a decision I made lightly, B'Elanna."

"Captain, these are the Vidiians we're talking about! You know what they're capable of! Or have you forgotten what they did to me, and to Neelix, and to Pete Durst?"

B'Elanna's tone was accusatory, and Kathryn went still. She'd visited Peter Durst's parents not long after Voyager had arrived back in the Alpha Quadrant, to let them know how highly regarded their son had been, and to personally deliver his posthumous Starfleet Medal of Valor. But that couldn't remove the pain from their eyes, or erase their knowledge of the nature of their son's horrible death. She'd been aware of that every second she'd been with them, as she had been with the families of other crewmembers who'd been lost in the Delta Quadrant. Her words couldn't compensate for what had been taken from them under her watch. Nothing could.

"No. I haven't forgotten."

Kathryn's stony tone brought a flush to B'Elanna's cheeks. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply..."

"Maybe not. But you did." Kathryn waved a hand before B'Elanna could apologize again. She thought about those losses and her part in them often enough. There was no point in talking about them, and she suspected there was another purpose to B'Elanna's visit. "I know that you went through a horrible experience with the Vidiians, Commander, and I do not in any way belittle it. But the situation has changed. Thanks to the Think Tank, there is a cure for the Phage. The Vidiians don't need to harvest organs to survive."

"Maybe not," B'Elanna agreed. "But just because the situation has changed doesn't mean the people have. Even though they aren't in desperate straits anymore, who says they won't still see profit in harvesting organs, or pirating ships, or other illicit activities? If they had no honor, and no regard for other life then, why should they change?"

"What about Denara Pel?" Kathryn asked. Even on their worst days, not every Vidiian had been the same. Denara was a perfect example of that truth. "She had honor. And she's involved in this mission."

B'Elanna shrugged. "She's an exception. But most of the Vidiians weren't like her."

"Maybe or maybe not. We only met a few of them. And with the Phage cured, it's likely the Vidiians who want to cling to their old values are in the minority. In the general population, most may be like Denara Pel, eager to restore their society to its former state. They were once artisans and scientists who lived at peace with surrounding races. That memory is a strong motivator."

"Do you really think they can change overnight, after hundreds of years of compromising their moral integrity?"

It was more like thousands of years, and Kathryn knew it was a lot to expect. It wouldn't be easy for them. "I think they can, with help, and with a good example to follow. Which is the purpose of our mission. Kes believes the same thing."

"Kes..."

Kathryn heard the doubt in B'Elanna's voice. They both knew how Kes had behaved the last time they'd seen her. She'd been a tortured shadow of her former self. "Kes has been in contact with some of the Vidiians, including Denara Pel, and she feels certain that their motives are genuine."

"I know Tuvok has vouched that Kes is...well, herself again, and I'm very glad about that. But even Kes can't control every variable, least of all the actions of others."

"No, she can't," Kathryn agreed. "But I do trust Kes's judgment, and even more, I trust Tuvok's."

B'Elanna leaned forward and set the cup of raktajino she hadn't touched on the table. "If there was just myself and Tom to consider, I probably wouldn't even be here. We've taken chances with our lives before and gone into situations far more dangerous than this, sometimes by choice. I've never had a problem putting myself at risk when necessary. But my daughter is another matter. Her welfare is my responsibility."

"The welfare of everyone on my ship is also my responsibility," Kathryn reminded her sharply. "I wouldn't allow Miral to come on this mission if I thought her life could be in serious danger."

After a moment B'Elanna nodded. "I know that. I just..." She shook her head. "The thought of what happened to me happening to her—of anything happening to her—"

Kathryn reached over and placed her hand over B'Elanna's. "There are no absolute guarantees in life, B'Elanna. God knows we've learned that lesson well. Even staying put on Earth isn't risk-free. It's been the target of several attacks, most recently from the Borg and the Dominion. I can't give you empty assurances, but I am certain Miral won't come to any harm from the Vidiians. Still, if you and Tom want me to release you from your positions on Voyager, I will."

B'Elanna looked surprised at the offer, and she frowned thoughtfully for a moment. "No. You're right. I probably am overreacting." Her eyes widened, as if she'd just realized something. She let out a short laugh. "Good gods, I'm acting like an over-protective mother, aren't I?"

Kathryn smiled. "You're acting like a mother, period. Miral is your first priority, as she should be."

"She is," B'Elanna agreed. "I still can't say I'm completely comfortable with this mission, but maybe I never will be when it comes to the Vidiians."

"Maybe not, but you don't have to be friends with them, B'Elanna," Kathryn said, though she suspected if the Vidiians proved to be as willing to change as Kes believed, B'Elanna would come to tolerate them, and even like some of them on an individual basis, as she'd come to like Denara Pel. That was the way it usually worked when two species first established relations. It was always easiest to accept and understand the individuals first, then relate them to the whole and gain an understanding of the culture and the people.

"Whatever happened in the past, I do believe the Vidiians deserve a second chance," Kathryn added. That much was true. "And after all my arguments to Starfleet a year ago about second chances, I could hardly deny it to the Vidiians, could I?"

That pointed observation elicited a frustrated sigh from B'Elanna. "No, I don't suppose you could. I guess I just needed a chance to vent, and I've already done it enough to Tom recently."

Kathryn's eyebrows rose. "I suppose I should be flattered to rate right behind Tom."

"Chakotay hasn't been available."

Kathryn laughed, though underneath, she, too, lamented Chakotay's recent busy schedule.

"But I do trust your judgment, Captain. And so does Tom."

"Good," Kathryn said. "You and Tom are too valuable to this ship for me to give you up easily. And I promise you that we will be going into this mission with open eyes. My new first officer has already insisted on the highest level security protocols."

B'Elanna looked relieved, then amused. "I suppose Tuvok won't ever change."

Kathryn's lips quirked. "Vulcans are known to be a little...retentive. But it's one reason he's always been my first choice after Chakotay decided to leave Starfleet."

"He's a good choice, and I know Chakotay is very happy with his life as it is now...all of it." B'Elanna's meaning was clear. She stood. "I should get back to Engineering. Thank you for listening to me, Captain."

"You're welcome," Kathryn said, as B'Elanna moved toward the door. "And, Commander, I'm always available to listen about the Vidiians, or anything else. But next time, use the announcer."

B'Elanna nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

Kathryn sat back as the door closed behind her chief engineer. She took a sip of her coffee, though it was now lukewarm. She hoped B'Elanna's trust in her was justified. Despite her own reservations, she did believe this was the right thing to do. It was easy to judge the Vidiians, but a lot harder to know with certainty what humans—or Vulcans, or Klingons—might have resorted to if they'd had to watch their society crumble and their loved ones suffer and die in agony. It was not a comfortable subject to ponder.

Besides, there was another aspect to this mission, one that had very personal meaning for her. She had sacrificed a quick trip home for her crew, against some of their wishes—had ultimately sacrificed some of their lives—to save the Ocampa. Then she'd left them to muddle through as best they could, no longer doomed, but with no certain future either. To go back now and help the Ocampa rebuild their society, and to see them truly thrive as a species again—that would honor those sacrifices she and her crew had made, in the best way possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter written by Julie


	7. Ayala Receives a Call from Tom Paris

***7***  
  
**Ayala Family Quarters, Deep Space Nine-March 5, Stardate 57176.2**  
  
_"Lieutenant Michael Ayala?" _asked the unfamiliar Andorian woman on the comm.  
  
"Yes," Ayala answered, wondering who was calling him at this hour of the morning. He checked the chronometer; he wasn't due to start his duty shift for another two hours.  
  
_"I am Glera, a member of Ambassador Shuba Diaza's staff. I understand you are one of the leading candidates for the position of Security Chief on board the Pioneer."_  
  
"Hold on just a minute," Ayala interrupted. "I'm a candidate for what?"  
  
_"For Security Chief on board the Pioneer," _Glera repeated. At his blank look, she added, _"The colony ship that is being sent to the Delta Quadrant?"_  
  
"I thought only _Voyager_ was going to the Delta Quadrant," Ayala said. "What's this about a colony?"  
  
Glera's antennae twitched. _"Haven't you spoken with Lieutenant Commander Paris? He's the one who submitted your name."_  
  
"I received a message from Mr. Paris yesterday while I was out," Ayala said grimly, "but it didn't say anything specific about being a Security Chief. And most certainly nothing about a colony."  
  
_"Oh, dear,"_ Glera said. _"Perhaps I should begin at the beginning--or better yet, maybe you should speak to Lieutenant Commander Paris first."_  
  
"Oh, I will definitely be speaking to him, you can be sure of that," Ayala said.  
  
_"Please contact our office afterwards," _Glera said. _"I can be reached at these coordinates."_  
  
As soon as the connection was broken, Ayala placed a call to Utopia Planitia.  
  
_"Mike!"_ Tom Paris said delightedly. _"Did you get my message?"_  
  
"Yes, I did," Ayala said, "along with one from an Andorian woman who informed me that she was the aide to some Ambassador I've never heard of and that I'm being considered for a posting I never applied for!"  
  
_"Ah. Sorry about that,"_ Tom said. _"But I explained the whole thing when I called yesterday."_  
  
Ayala rolled his eyes. "Tom, do you let Miral take your comm messages for you when you're out?"  
  
_"Uh, no—"_  
  
"Trust me, teenagers aren't much more reliable than toddlers in that respect. The boys told me you called, but that was it."  
  
_"Sorry," _Tom said again. _"Let me fill you in now. Voyager's mission has been changed. Instead of one ship, it'll be three, and instead of focusing our contact efforts on the Boirii, the Federation will be establishing an embassy with the Vidiians."_  
  
Ayala shivered. The Vidiians? "What—"  
  
_"Hear me out, please?"_ Tom said. _"We're hoping to establish a permanent colony too. On New Earth—that's the planet that the Captain and Commander were stranded on all those years ago, remember?"_  
  
"So that's where the Vidiians come into it?" Ayala asked with a frown. "Isn't it a bit, uh, risky, setting up a colony on one of their planets? Tom, you remember what they're like. Their attitude towards other species is that of organ donor, willing or not."  
  
_"The situation's changed, Mike,"_ Tom said once more. _"Kurros and the Think Tank weren't lying to us. The Phage has been cured, and the Vidiians are interested in mending relations with their neighbors. Besides, the Federation colony won't be the only settlers on the planet. I understand that Kes is leading a group of Ocampa, hoping to establish a new home for them there as well."_  
  
Knowing that Kes was involved calmed Ayala down considerably. "I still don't understand what you want from me, though."  
  
_"The number of colonists is going to be very small, about 500 families. They'll be transported on board a special ship, the Pioneer. There's been a lot of interest from refugees from the recent wars—people who would be interested in picking up and starting a new life out there."_  
  
"I see," Ayala said non-committedly.  
  
_"The Pioneer needs a Chief of Security. The understanding is that afterwards this officer would also be in charge of setting up planetary defenses." Tom paused. "Mike, you'd be perfect for the job."_  
  
"I'm not sure I want to relocate now," Ayala started to say.  
  
Tom held up a hand. _"Look, I'm transmitting you the information. Don't make any hasty decisions. Go through the details, talk to your boys. If you've got any questions, the Andorian Ambassador's office is available."_ He added, _"Captain Janeway thinks highly of you, you know. Both she and Commander Tuvok suggested you for consideration for this slot."_  
  
"I appreciate it, Tom," Ayala said. "I think."  
  
Tom laughed. _"I'll speak to you again soon. Take care, Mike."_  
  
Ayala stared at the data files, his eyes wide. Security Chief of one of the three transwarp vessels in existence...hell, Security Chief of an entire colony! This was an impressive step up the career ladder. The salary wasn't bad either. And the chance to start out fresh on a new planet, far away from the scars and reminders of war? That could be good for—  
  
He froze at the sound of hushed voices outside his door.  
  
"Shush, don't," a voice said, "Dad will hear you."  
  
"I bet that was Tom...Mr. Paris," Raul said even louder.  
  
"We don't know that," Luis said.  
  
"Come in here," Ayala called out. "Both of you." The door opened, and the two boys entered. Raul looked excited, Luis looked a bit sheepish, probably because they'd been caught.  
  
"Was that Tom who called?" Raul asked eagerly.  
  
"No, it wasn't." He smiled at the look of disappointment on both their faces. "I spoke to him afterwards. The first call was from someone who wanted to offer me a position on a starship."  
  
"On _Voyager_?" Raul said as he jumped in excitement.  
  
Ayala shook his head at his younger son's boundless energy, even at this hour of the morning. "Not quite. The ship is called _Pioneer_."  
  
"Is it going to the Delta Quadrant?"  
  
"Yes. To a planet called New Earth." Ayala hesitated. "If we went there, it would require at least a year's commitment. If you don't like it after three weeks, tough. I can't just up and come back here. You'll be leaving your friends, everything you know..."  
  
"Good," Luis muttered. "I hate this place."  
  
"Can Kajee come?" Raul asked.  
  
"If she wants to. I understand there are other people looking to colonize this planet." Ayala privately wondered, though, if she would be willing to embark on such a journey. And he realized he was not particularly looking forward to leaving her behind if she were not. "And I'd be in charge of security. That means I'd be real busy. And I'd probably be away a lot more than I am now, at least in the early months of setting up the colony." He let them think about that for a few seconds. "Now, I don't need to make a decision for a few weeks, so I want you to think about this. Think hard. We'll talk again. Let me read through what the commander sent me and I'll give you both a copy. Remember, 'all for one...' "  
  
"And one for two!" Raul shouted.  
  
Ayala chuckled, while Luis corrected his younger brother. "Silly, it's 'and one for all.' "  
  
Raul ran out of the room shouting, "I'm going to start packing!"  
  
Michael studied his older boy for a few second. "Luis, I can say no. If you don't want to go."  
  
"Will J.J. and Patrick be going?"  
  
"Joe's kids?" Ayala hesitated. "I don't know. I don't even know if their father is going on this mission. But we can try to find out."  
  
Luis smiled shyly. "If the Careys would come too, that would be great."  
  
There was a crash from somewhere in the house. Both of them ran out, only to find Raul buried under a pile of clothes in his closet. "The box on the top shelf fell on me," he said plaintively.  
  
"I can see that," Ayala said with a sigh. "Even though it looks like some of these items have been sitting on the floor of your closet for some time."  
  
"I'll clean it up right away!" Raul promised. "As part of my packing."  
  
"I haven't said yes, and we wouldn't be leaving for some time," Ayala admonished him. He bent down to help extricate the boy. "And in the meantime, you'll want to have something to wear."  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter written by Christina


	8. Act 2—Some Will Go; Others Will Not

**_Act 2—Some Will Go; Others Will Not  
_**  
***8***  
  
**Kajee Narel's home, Bajor--April 9, Stardate 57271.9**  
  
Ro Laren breezed into Kajee Narel's house and glanced around her as she said, "Hey, I thought this was supposed to be a party. No one would know it, the way you all look!"  
  
Kajee, allegedly the host of the party, was sitting at the table and weeping quietly. Tal Celes and her husband Angelo were patting her on the shoulders, looking distressed. Michael Ayala was leaning on the wall close to the kitchen door, arms crossed in front of him, with a stony expression upon his face. Ayala's two boys and Kajee's daughter were not in sight, but a human male with a dissolute air about him was sitting across the table from Kajee. His face was screwed up in a pained pout as he tasted some sort of liquid in a glass that Ro suspected held Kafar, which she considered undrinkable.  
  
Tal sighed. "I'm sorry, Ro. Our news upset Kajee."  
  
"What news?"  
  
"Angelo and I are going back to the Delta Quadrant."  
  
"On the new _Voyager_ mission? I heard about that," Ro replied, as nonchalantly as she could, even though she felt as if she had just been jabbed in the gut with a very sharp elbow. It didn't take Ro more than a nanosecond to figure out this must be the "big secret" Raul had said he couldn't talk about until after the party. "Congratulations, Tal. I'm sure you and Angelo will enjoy it a lot more this time around. Oh, and Ayala...could I have a quick word?"  
  
Ayala nodded and reluctantly followed Ro outside, with such a sheepish expression on his face she barely waited for him to clear the door before she spat out, "I trust you were going to give me notice before you shipped out."  
  
They walked up the slope behind Kajee's house slowly. It seemed to have gotten a lot steeper to Ro since the last time she'd been here, less than two weeks ago.  
  
"Ro, I'm sorry. I know I should have said something to you as soon as they offered it to me. At first I wasn't sure going back there was the right thing to do; but Raul wanted to go see where I'd been; and even Luis wanted to go--although when he heard the Careys probably aren't going, he...Ro, I'm blabbering, aren't I?"  
  
"You certainly are, Ayala," she said with a labored chuckle. She didn't feel much like laughing, although Ayala seemed not to notice. Or maybe he was pretending not to, for her sake.  
  
"I'm going to apply for leave, though. I'm not planning to resign. The mission is only for eighteen months."  
  
"_Voyager_ was only supposed to be gone for a few weeks last time," Ro replied sardonically.  
  
"This is different. The _Pioneer_ is establishing a colony to support the embassy on New Earth. But with the new drive, they're expecting to establish regular trips back and forth very soon. I told Kajee that, but she got hysterical anyway."  
  
"Eighteen months is a long time to be apart from someone you love, especially when she hasn't gotten any sort of commitment from you," Ro noted as she perched upon the large granite boulder which commanded a panoramic view of Kajee's house and the village beyond.  
  
He hesitated before answering softly, "I didn't think she was ready for that yet."  
  
Ro bit back a pained moan, saying only, "Of course she's ready, Michael. She's been ready from the first time she met you, that day you came home to Raul."  
  
"She doesn't want to lose Raul," he said, an uncharacteristic quaver in his voice.  
  
"She doesn't want to lose either of you, you big blockhead! Go to her. You don't have to ask her to marry you. Just ask if she wants to come along 'for an adventure.' Prophets! She's had nothing but grief and toil and worry for years now about what was going to hit her next. Give her the chance to try something new. If she's just 'traveling' with you, she won't need a _commitment_ if you're not ready yet to give her one. It will be good for Lajen, too. She's too fond of your boys to be torn apart from them."  
  
"We'll be back, Ro. In a year and a half."  
  
"You say that now, but if you're happy out there? Why bother to come back? Angelo will be much happier building houses in a new colony, where he won't have to hear snide whispers behind his back about his past—even when he's doing people a big favor by working for them for almost nothing. I understand why he and Tal are going."  
  
"Are you wondering why I am? Because I'm wondering myself. I've got a good job, and the boys are happy here." He sat on the rock next to Ro and sighed.  
  
"You may be happy with your sons and your friends here on Bajor, but I think something has been missing since you came back to the Alpha Quadrant." He looked at her, a question in his eyes. She answered before he gave it voice. "That _Voyager_ family of yours—most of them will be together again, right?"  
  
"I guess. Not all, though. The Careys won't be coming."  
  
"But Janeway and Chakotay, Paris and Torres, Doctor Zimmerman, the Talaxians, Harry Kim, Tuvok and his wife, too—they'll all be going, I hear."  
  
"They will. Interested in making a new start out there in the Delta Quadrant? Away from all the vedeks?"  
  
"No, thank you!" Ro laughed. "I've made enough new starts in my life. It's time I stuck with something. And I wouldn't count on being 'away from all the vedeks.' Prylor Sem Varen is going along to allow the Bajorans in the group a chance to worship the Prophets while they're way out there—and win a few converts, too, I'm sure. He's already recruited a contingent of at least two dozen Bajorans, and he's looking for more. That's why I know Kajee and Lajen would be welcome. I thank you for the offer, though."  
  
She was sincere in her thanks, but maybe it didn't come out that way. Or maybe the quick blinking of his eyes and sad expression was because he was leaving Deep Space Nine. She doubted it could have anything to do with her. After all, they'd always maintained a strictly professional relationship on the station. That solemn look on his face couldn't be due to the reason she felt so bereft.  
  
He stood up slowly, held out his hands, and murmured, "Thanks, Ro, for everything. For taking care of Raul, and for helping me find him again. And...well, walk with the Prophets, Ro Laren."  
  
She didn't trust herself to do more than echo his closing sentiment and watched him as he receded down the hill. As night descended around her, she remained perched on the rock.  
  
She'd meant what she'd said about sticking with something she'd started; but now that she was sitting on a hillside all on her own, the desire to try something new tempted her. She fingered her earring and contemplated her future. What _did_ she want out of life? Respect? Serving the public on Deep Space Nine for as long as they'd have her? Did she want marriage and a family, or maybe just the family without the marriage? She'd almost had that, in a way. But she'd brought Raul to Kajee, who'd gladly made a home for him, eventually becoming more of a mother to him than Ro. Maybe it was fitting for Ayala and Kajee and their children to go to the Delta Quadrant together. They fit together so well. Ro wasn't exactly the domestic type.  
  
Still, she felt bad, knowing Ayala wouldn't be around—even if it was only for eighteen months (and she didn't for a minute think that was all the time he'd be away). During the past year he'd become a very good friend as well as a valued co-worker. He was so competent, he was now more of a partner in the security office than her subordinate.  
  
Ro sighed deeply. She was shocked when there was an answering sigh from a few meters away. "Who is that?" she asked, a little more sharply than she probably should have. Ro didn't like being surprised, especially at night. She prided herself upon her ability to sense when someone was trying to sneak up on her.  
  
"It's Morrow. James Morrow. Sorry if I startled you," a soft male voice stated from the enveloping darkness.  
  
It took her a few seconds to put the name with the face. "The guy drowning his sorrows in Kafar at Kajee's house?" If so, that was another surprise; his voice didn't match his looks.  
  
"Is that what they call it? Horrible stuff. I couldn't keep enough down to go on a bender no matter how hard I tried."  
  
Ro grunted in amusement. "I can't get more than a sip down, even when Quark offers me some for free."  
  
"Quark's the Ferengi barkeep on Deep Space Nine, right?" Morrow stepped a little closer. Although she still couldn't see his face, Ro made the connection. Like Angelo Tessoni, Morrow was one of the _Equinox_ Five.  
  
"That's Quark. I spend a lot of my time on the station keeping him under surveillance."  
  
"I'll bet. Does he have anything better to drink...no. Scratch that. I don't even want to ask." In spite of the darkness, she could see him hang his head.  
  
"_Anything_ is better to drink than Kafar. Maybe you've had more than enough to drink lately. Am I right?"  
  
"Yeah." His reply was curt but emphatic.  
  
"Are you going with the Ayala's and Tessoni's to this New Earth colony or embassy or whatever it is?"  
  
He grunted derisively. "They wouldn't want me along."  
  
"Why not? If Angelo is going, you can, too. I'm sure he could use your help building houses out there."  
  
"I'm not much for building things. I'm more the destructive type."  
  
"More the self-destructive type, I'd say."  
  
"So? What's it matter to you?"  
  
Ro jumped off the boulder and took two steps to stand in front of him. She could see his face clearly from this close, despite the gloom of night. "Nothing, really, except I've been where you are; and I know the only way to get out of it is to stop feeling sorry for yourself."  
  
"I've heard that before."  
  
"So, maybe you should listen! If Ro Laren, ex-con, ex-Maquis, and former screw-up, could hold on long enough to make something of herself, I'm sure you could, too."  
  
"You didn't murder anyone."  
  
"I wouldn't be so sure of that. People died because of me; I'd say that's close enough. The point is, you're not doing yourself any favors hanging around here and drinking yourself to death. I assume that was what you were referring to, a few minutes ago. If you go along on this eighteen month mission, you may find yourself again."  
  
"The Delta Quadrant was a horror show."  
  
"The Alpha Quadrant doesn't seem to be treating you much better," she pointed out.  
  
He had nothing to say to that. Ro grabbed him by the arm and started marching down the hill, dragging him along with her. "I've had enough of being alone up here. Come on, let's go down to the party."  
  
"I don't have much to celebrate," he said, but his voice no longer had the nihilistic quality it had held a few minutes before.  
  
"I don't have much to celebrate either, to tell you the truth. I just found out I'm going to have to say good-bye to the best security officer on my staff, and to his son, whom I love as much as if he were my own—not to mention assorted friends I've come to care about a lot over the past year. But those friends have something to celebrate. They're going on an adventure, and they want me to wish them well. So I will. I'll wish you well, too, if you want to go, too. Frankly, you should. You need to make a clean start."  
  
"I..." His voice trailed off, as if he were so used to countering every argument made to him that he automatically tried to take the opposite view, even when he wanted to agree.  
  
Ro took pity on him. "Morrow, I can't say everything is going to turn out great for you. How am I to know? I haven't looked into the Orb of Prophecy or the Orb of the Future in a very long time—never, as a matter of fact. I can't tell you what your fate might be. I _can_ tell you that hanging around here feeling sorry for yourself is the best way I know not to _have_ a future. So take a chance. One thing about being at the bottom: you don't have much to lose, do you?"  
  
"I guess not," he said. They were nearing the doorway. The light shining out from a window lit his face, highlighting a slight, rueful smile as he agreed with her. Smiling, his looks matched his mellow voice a lot more than the despondent look had.  
  
By the time they reentered Kajee's house, no one was crying. Luis, Raul, and Lajen were singing a rather raucous popular song that was making the rounds of Deep Space Nine, and Ro didn't feel so bad any more. She'd find a way through this time of trouble, just as she always did. No one had ever promised her life would be easy.   
  
Good thing, because it certainly never had been.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter written by jamelia


	9. Andorian Diplomats

  
***9***  
  
**Federation Diplomatic Corps Central Office, Paris-April 11, Stardate 57277.3**  
  
Ambassador Shuba Diaza was more than a bit disgusted. His well-earned vacation on Andor had been delayed once again—this time by a request from President M'Renn to handle First Contact with a Delta Quadrant race. Only it wasn't a true First Contact, as _Voyager_ had had dealings with them years earlier.  
  
He sighed. And in true high-handed Starfleet style, _Voyager_'s captain had managed to make a mess of the whole thing.  
  
Well, he'd made a career of cleaning up Starfleet's messes. These Vidiians sounded just different enough that it might be interesting. He picked up the PADD he'd been reading before his pre-tea nap. This was Starfleet for you, full of rules and regulations—which their ships and captains never actually appeared to follow. Not only had the initial contact gone badly, but he wasn't sure the most recent ones had gone much better. A pity he hadn't been there from the start. At the very least, Starfleet should have called him in months ago when a representative of the Vidiians had apparently contacted a Vulcan intermediary. Diaza wasn't terribly impressed with Vulcan diplomatic skills either, truth be told.  
  
He glanced back at the PADD in front of him, which detailed _Voyager_'s various encounters with the Vidiians during the first years of its now fabled journey. Vidiia: Planet of the Body Snatchers.  
  
He shook his head. It probably hadn't been a good idea to attend the Terran Vid Festival with Ambassador Drake the other night. He'd never understood the Terran fascination with science fiction or fantasy. Contemporary holofilms were bad enough, but the material in the Festival, Drake had proudly told him, was several centuries old. Diaza had not been impressed. Two dimensional characters in a two dimensional video experience. He'd dozed off halfway through some story about sand.  
  
He continued to read through the files, pushing the images of the movie "The Body Snatchers" out of his head. The report was poorly written—full of sensationalism and wild accusations about slave labor and organ 'harvests.' He'd yet to read an unbiased Starfleet First Contact report, but this one was the absolute worst.  
  
"Glera," he said loudly enough for his administrative assistant in the outer room to hear. "As soon as Daeja Thev arrives, show her in."  
  
"Yes, sir," Glera responded.  
  
He moved ahead to another report, this one detailing the structure of current Vidiian society.  
  
"Sir," Glera said as she poked her head into his office. "Commander Daeja Thev is here."  
  
"Excellent." Daeja entered his office.  
  
"Ambassador," she said.  
  
"Ah, Commander. Please, take a seat. So good of you to arrive promptly. I hope I wasn't interrupting anything?" he inquired graciously.  
  
"Just grading papers, sir," Daeja said politely.  
  
"Your classes are going well?"  
  
"I have no complaints, Ambassador."  
  
"I was wondering if you would be interested in a Sabbatical?"  
  
"Sir?" Her antennae twitched—he hoped it was because she was interested.  
  
"Yes, I need an attaché on my next mission—one who is very familiar with Starfleet protocols—and command styles."  
  
Daeja looked puzzled. "I thought you were on an extended vacation, Ambassador."  
  
He smiled. "So did I, but I was called back to deal with a most interesting diplomatic assignment." Her antennae straightened. She must have some idea what he was talking about. "I'm sure you've heard that _Voyager_'s mission has been modified from its original parameters."  
  
"Yes, I have, sir." She added, "Captain Janeway is a personal friend of mine."  
  
Diaza nodded. He was already quite aware of that fact; it was a major reason he had called Thev to his office today. "I have been asked to head the diplomatic mission, as well as govern the colony that will be established in the Delta Quadrant. It's a year-long assignment, maybe longer." He cleared his throat. "Commander, you have an impressive background in both legal and diplomatic affairs, precisely the sort of skills this mission requires. I'd like you to accompany me." He said it as if she had choice, but Admiral Hayes had already approved his request.  
  
"I understand, sir." He was sure she did—that her legal expertise wasn't the sole reason he was so eager to have her aboard. She was to act as an intermediary between Captain Janeway and himself. "Do you know when the mission will start?"  
  
"June 25th. I believe this is after the Academy semester is over?" At her nod, he continued, "Good. We are not expected to be on board the Federation ship until twenty four hours prior to departure, but a great deal of planning and preparation for the mission must take place before then. I've arranged for you to receive the daily briefings."  
  
"Which ship will the diplomatic contingent be traveling on?"  
  
"_Pioneer_, which will be transporting the colonists and their goods," Diaza said, his antennae flattening against his head in displeasure. He would have to talk to Admiral Hayes again about the ship assignment. Protocol dictated that he and his staff be assigned quarters on the flagship, which in this case would have been _Voyager_. Even the _Odyssey_ would have been preferable.  
  
"And have you already been in contact with the Vidiians, sir?"  
  
He smiled. As he'd expected, she was well informed. Even though the change in _Voyager_'s mission wasn't classified, only a few people knew the details. "I am expecting to hear from the Pathfinder people in the next couple of days. My understanding is that the Vidiians have been given the information to build the necessary equipment so we can communicate." Diplomacy was his forte—he left the engineering details to his staff. "Thank you, Commander."  
  
Daeja bowed. "Thank you, sir. It's been a long time since I've been on a deep space mission."  
  
*  
  
Ten minutes later, Daeja was in her office and at her communications console. "Kathryn, you won't believe what just happened."  
  
Kathryn Janeway smiled. _"Let's see. A first year student explained the complexities of the Troilen Treaty?"_  
  
They both laughed. "No. Ambassador Diaza just asked me to join his staff. I'll be going to Delta Quadrant with you. Well, not quite with you, but on board the _Pioneer_."  
  
_"Just as long as it's not on Voyager," _Janeway muttered. _"Sorry. I haven't had much contact with the Ambassador, but I've gotten the distinct impression that he isn't very, uh, fond of me."_  
  
Daeja laughed. The feeling was obviously mutual. "It's not you, Kathryn. The Ambassador is just not particularly fond of Starfleet captains in general. He believes ensigns are better qualified for First Contact missions. Their training is still fresh, so they won't do anything to soil the nest before the diplomats arrive."  
  
This brought another laugh from Kathryn.  
  
"_This_ time, Kathryn, you won't be leaving the bureaucracy behind," Daeja said, only half in jest.  
  
_"I'm counting on you to protect me from the worst of it," _Kathryn retorted. _"Well, if you're coming along, then you no longer have any excuse not to come to Mars and see my new ship. Consider it research. I'll cook a pot roast."_  
  
"Oh, no, you won't," Daeja said immediately. "Not unless Chakotay is doing the cooking. Otherwise, I insist we go out for dinner." She paused. "Speaking of your ship, have you had any more problems?"  
  
_"Just some minor glitches. Nothing like the disasters we had last December."_  
  
"I heard you scared the contractors."  
  
_"According to Chakotay, that's an understatement. Actually, all I did was get rid of the civilian workers and put the fear of God in the Starfleet ones. As a result, things are going very well now."_ She added, _"If the mission parameters hadn't been changed, we would have easily made our launch date at the end of February."_  
  
"You sound impatient to get back to the Delta Quadrant."  
  
_"June isn't that far away," _Kathryn looked away from the screen for a second._ "I have to go. B'Elanna's ready for me down in Engineering. Welcome aboard, Dae."_  
  
Daeja closed the connection and leaned back in her chair, saying softly to herself, "This could be interesting. Very interesting."  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter written by Christina


	10. The Talaxians Decide

  
***10***  
  
**New Orleans, French Quarter, April 15—Stardate** **57288.3**  
  
As he threaded his way through the crowded market, nodding and smiling at those who greeted him as he passed by, Neelix hummed happily. He loved New Orleans' historic French market and tried to shop there as often as he could. He was laden with packages, the results of several satisfying bargaining sessions with his favorite vendors. At this point Neelix was well known to most of them, not only because of his very public association with _Voyager_ and his status as Delta Quadrant Ambassador, but also because of his growing reputation as an innovative and knowledgeable chef. He had one final purchase to make before he headed home. Stopping in front of Madame Lafleur's booth, he set down his parcels so he would be able to choose exactly what he wanted.  
  
"Monsieur Neelix," she greeted him with a wide smile. "_Bienvenue_. Welcome."  
  
"Why thank you, Madame," he responded. "Your booth looks particularly festive today." Neelix stood back to admire the array of color before him. "Those flowers—what are they?" He asked her, pointing to a particularly striking bouquet of pink and red heart-shaped flowers on long sturdy stems.  
  
"Ah yes," those are unusual aren't they. I am not able to get them very often these days, although they used to be more common," she told him. "They are called tropical heliconia, and those," she said, pointing to another bunch beside them, "are red ginger. They are of the Zingiberaceae family. An edible root," she added, knowing without a doubt that this tidbit of knowledge would seal the deal.  
  
"I'll take them," Neelix said predictably, and they both grinned. "All of them. They're perfect."  
  
"_Tres bien_," she said. "I'll wrap them for you, Monsieur."  
  
"_Merci_, Madame," Neelix replied, as she'd taught him during one of their many exchanges.  
  
She nodded as she began to bundle the two bunches together.  
  
"How is your husband these days?" he asked her. "Has he been traveling to the jungles recently?"  
  
He and Sarexa had become friendly enough with the Lafleurs that they had dined together on a few occasions. They found them to be an interesting couple with many fascinating stories they were eager to share about their search for unusual flowers in some very exotic locations.  
  
"Not so much anymore. He has finally found a reliable supplier who is able to send us blooms like these on a more regular basis," she replied, and pulled a long piece of sturdy brown paper out from under the counter. "And your lovely wife? How is she?"  
  
"She's fine, Madame. She'll be home later this evening. She's been teaching at one of the preparatory colleges in the Northeast. I'm very proud of her," he added.  
  
"And is it a special occasion, Monsieur?" she asked as she worked.  
  
"Yes, indeed, Madame," he replied. "I have some exciting news, and these flowers will definitely add color to our celebration." He paused, obviously waiting for her next question.  
  
"Can you share, Monsieur?" she asked him, knowing he would.  
  
"I've finally got an official assignment," Neelix told her excitedly. "And it's the best one I could ever have hoped for."  
  
She stopped her work and waited for him to continue. "I...we...are being sent back to the Delta Quadrant on a new ship."  
  
"Ah, yes, the second _Voyager_. I saw a feature about it on last week's news vid."  
  
"And I, as Ambassador, will of course be part of the official delegation."  
  
"Well congratulations, Monsieur, and _bon chance_," Madame Lafleur said as she handed him his package.  
  
"Thank you, Madame," he replied. "Thank you very much," he placed the bouquet carefully into one of his bags. "I'll see you again next week, though," he said as he picked up his parcels, and prepared to leave. "Perhaps you can find me some of those Birds of Paradise again. Sarexa really liked them. And they lasted a long time."  
  
"I'll see what I can do, Monsieur," she replied. "Enjoy the flowers—and your celebration," she added.  
  
But Neelix had already disappeared into the crowd.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter written by CyberMum


	11. Starfleet Academy Cadets

  
***11***  
  
**Starfleet Academy Dormitory Complex, San Francisco, April 22—Stardate 57307.4**  
  
"Hey!"  
  
At the sound of her roommate's voice, Naomi looked up from her desk. Joanne Freunde was in a clean uniform, but her long red hair flowed in a loose and definitely non-regulation cascade down her back. Joanne was an acceptable roommate, but she was really quite vain about her hair. The fact that she was showing it off meant that she was going out. "Where are you headed?" Naomi asked.  
  
"A bunch of us are going to catch the new Ryan Ralston holoflick and then get a drink. Want to come?"  
  
Naomi shook her head. She didn't share the obsession with the young actor that afflicted so many of her classmates. "Thanks anyway. I need to finish this letter to my folks."  
  
Joanne shrugged. "Whatever." Flinging her hair artistically over her shoulder, she left.  
  
Naomi returned to blank monitor that she had been staring at for twenty minutes. With a small sigh, she began dictating.

> _  
"Hi, Mom and Dad," _she began. _"I'm glad to hear everything is going well at the new station. You're right, I was worried about you, but not so much because of the distance. Mostly I was worried that things weren't as settled in the Gamma Quadrant as we'd been told. It sounds like the Founders are living up to their end of the treaty, though. I'm glad Operations got the problem with your quarters straightened out. Why would anyone design living quarters directly beneath the main generator room, anyway? And why would they ever give them to someone with a brand new baby?_  
  
_"Oh—thanks for the picture."_ Naomi opened a new screen to look again at the image of her new little sister, taken only moments after birth. The little face was flushed, but instead of crying, she seemed to be looking around with a great deal of curiosity. _"She's really beautiful, isn't she? I can't tell if those are horns forming on her forehead, or just her fingers at a weird angle. And I like all the names you mentioned, except one. I don't care if it is your grandmother's name, Mom, you just can't name her Wilma Wildman. She'd never live it down.  
_  
_"A lot has been happening here. Not to me. All I do is go to class, or to Archery practice, or to the library to study. It's _Voyager_ I'm talking about. Or rather, the Delta Quadrant Task Force. Have you heard about it? There are three ships going back to the Delta Quadrant, and one of them is Voyager II. Captain Janeway is going to lead the task force, and a lot of our old shipmates are going with her. A few, like Harry Kim, will be on the other escort ship, the _Odyssey_. The third ship, the _Pioneer_, is carrying a load of colonists who will settle on New Earth. I don't really remember that place, Mom, but perhaps you do."  
_  
She stopped, and drew a single, slow breath. _"The thing is, Neelix and Sarexa are going with them. They just couldn't turn down the chance to get back to Talaxia. I can't blame them, really."_

Her voice was starting to waver, so she paused the recording. When her parents had told her that they were taking a posting in the Gamma Quadrant, they had promised her that Neelix would still be there for her. Neelix had told her the very same thing. He had cried when he told her he was leaving, and Naomi had cried with him. She felt very much alone. All the adults she loved were at least a full quadrant away.  
  
But she was a Starfleet cadet now, and by every standard that counted, an adult herself. She was too grown up to cry about it. The problem was, she didn't feel like an adult. She felt like a little girl.  
  
Dashing a renegade tear off her cheek, she continued.

>   
_"Don't worry about me, though. Admiral and Mrs. Paris told me I can consider their house my home during breaks and stuff, and that I can count on them. I'll be fine. It's just—I'll miss everyone. I wish I was old enough to go with them."  
  
_

That sounded just a little too self-pitying, and she stopped again to regroup. _Find the silver lining,_ she told herself. Mrs. Paris said there was always a silver lining if you just looked hard enough.  
  
Well, Icheb had been paying a lot more attention to her since Neelix broke the news. He'd even broken a date with Mialla to take her to his parents' house for dinner. She had a feeling, though, that her mother wouldn't regard that as a silver lining. Probably better not to mention it, she decided.

>   
_"The thing is, I'm okay,"_ she said as she resumed recording. _"We're really busy, and Icheb and Griff are making sure I don't get lonely. We start the practical for the survival course in two weeks, which means I won't have much chance to think about anything but which bugs are edible and which aren't for a while._  
  
_ "I miss you guys. I think about you and the baby a lot. You have to show her my picture every day and tell her about her big sister. Take care of her, and of each other, and stay safe. I love you."  
_

She ended the recording and leaned back in her chair. It was only 20:00 hours, and she was caught up on all her studies. Maybe she could catch up with Joanne and the others after all.  
  
Her comm channel sounded, and she hit the "accept" control. Suddenly she was looking at Icheb. _"Are you busy?"_ he asked. His face was slightly flushed, and he was speaking rapidly.  
  
"Not really. What's the matter?"  
  
_"I just got tickets to Dr. Fanari's lecture on genetic reconstruction,"_ he said. _"It starts in twenty minutes. Do you want to go?"_  
  
"You're kidding," she breathed. Ganal Fenari was the leading genetics researcher on Adigeon Prime, a neutral world that permitted genetic manipulation. His lecture at Starfleet Academy had been offered to faculty and upperclassmen first, and had immediately filled. Icheb had been despondent. "How did you get the tickets?"  
  
_"Thank your roommate,"_ he said. _"Joanne convinced a couple of seniors that they'd have better luck with her group tonight than the lecture. Donello gave me his tickets."_  
  
"I'm there," she said. "Meet you in the lobby in two minutes."  
  
Smiling, he nodded as he closed the link. As soon as the screen was dark, Naomi realized that he had called her, not Mialla.  
  
Things were definitely looking up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter written by Penny


	12. Megan Delaney Decides

  
***12***  
  
**L.H. McCoy Medical Center, Mars Colony 3, May 7—Stardate 57348.6**  
  
Jenny Delaney slid to a stop in front of the nurse's station, not caring that her uniform was terribly rumpled. The way she had rushed out the door when she heard the news, it was a wonder she wasn't half-naked. "My sister was just admitted—where can I find her?"  
  
The nurse looked up from her computer. "Who is your sister?"  
  
"Megan Delaney."  
  
"I'll have to check," the nurse said.  
  
"Jenny!" Jenny looked up and smiled as her brother hurried over. The nurse glanced at him and returned to her work.  
  
"Robbie!" She hugged him quickly. "Where's Megan? Have you seen her? How is she?"  
  
"Relax, she's going to be just fine," Robbie assured her.  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"She broke her hip. She's in surgery now, but we should be able to see her soon." He propelled her toward a waiting area. "Come on, have a seat."  
  
Jenny relaxed. "Mom was so incoherent. I thought for sure—"  
  
Robbie shook his head. "You know how Mom can get sometimes. I know she's very worried, but Megan's going to be all right. Really."  
  
"Mom told me she's on her way here," Jenny said. "I thought for sure if she's cutting her vacation to Risa short, it must be serious."  
  
"Megan will probably be climbing again before Mom arrives." Robbie said. "Even if she could commandeer the _Enterprise_, the trip to Mars would still take several days."  
  
Jenny exhaled deeply. "Just a broken hip? Megan had much worse injuries on _Voyager_."  
  
"I'm sure both of you were hurt a lot worse than this on more than one occasion," Robbie agreed. He squeezed her hand. "Which is why Mom is reacting the way she is now."  
  
Jenny didn't argue the point. "I have three days leave," she said, changing the subject.  
  
"The two of you should be able to spend some together. That's good." Robbie glanced at the chronometer on the wall. "They should be coming to tell us that she's out of surgery soon. So, did you receive your new assignment yet?"  
  
Jenny shook her head as she sat down. "I don't graduate from Command School for another two months. I have put in a couple of requests, but I don't expect to hear anything for at least a few more weeks. But enough about me. How are your classes going, Professor Delaney?"  
  
"I'm enjoying teaching," he said, ignoring the jibe. "And wait till you hear this—the department head informed me last week that we're going to have our own fully equipped Astrometrics lab, based on your designs from _Voyager_. We've just received permission from Starfleet."  
  
Jenny raised an eyebrow. "That only took a little over twelve months. You must know someone."  
  
He laughed. "The dean is Admiral Nechayev's second cousin twice removed, or something like that, but actually, I like to think it was because I wrote an excellent proposal. I can't wait."  
  
She grinned. "Megan will be thrilled too." Jenny jumped up when a doctor appeared to be heading their way but went past them without slowing down. Robbie shook his head.  
  
"They'll let us know. Dr. Jolson said she'd come find me." He took her hand. "Megan was alert and conscious when they brought her in."  
  
"How could you have let her go climbing alone?" Jenny asked accusingly.  
  
He shrugged. "Just because she's staying at my apartment doesn't mean I'm responsible for keeping an eye on her at all times. She's a big girl now." Jenny had to smile at that. It was a line they'd used in protest against their parents many times when they were children. "And I'm not so sure she was alone."  
  
"Dr. Delaney?" a woman asked as she approached them.  
  
Robbie and Jenny looked up, then stood. "Dr. Jolson, my other sister, Lieutenant Commander Jenny Delaney," he said with some pride. Jenny didn't bother to correct him. Technically, her promotion wouldn't go into effect until after she completed Command School. "How is Megan?"  
  
"She's out of surgery and will be awake soon. The damage was not as bad as we feared. She's lucky her fiancé is an intern and knew exactly what to do."  
  
"Fiancé?" Robbie and Jenny asked in unison.  
  
Jenny looked at Robbie, surprised that he seemed to be as completely in the dark as she was. "What fiancé?" she asked.  
  
"Oh, dear." Dr. Jolson blushed. "I seem to have spoken out of turn. Your sister's, ahem, climbing partner stabilized the injury right away so there were minimal complications."  
  
"Right, no complications," Jenny said meaningfully.  
  
Dr. Jolson said quickly, "I'll let you know when you can see her."  
  
Less than half an hour later they were standing by Megan's bed. "Hello, sister," Jenny said as grabbed Megan's hands. "Don't scare me like this again."  
  
"You should be used to it by now," Megan retorted. She tried to pull back but Jenny held on to her left hand.  
  
"Now, now, what do we have here?" Jenny said, as she pointed to a sapphire ring on her sister's finger. "Robbie, do you notice anything different about Megan?"  
  
"You mean aside from her hip?" Robbie said, as he started laughing.  
  
"A broken hip seems to be the least of our surprises today. Who is this guy? Is he any good?"  
  
Megan was bright red. "Jenny!"  
  
Robbie turned to walk out. "My dear sisters, I don't want to know," he said from the door.  
  
"Shut up, Robbie, and get back over here," Jenny said in her best command voice. "We'll skip that last question—for the moment." Jenny's grin turned wicked. "You can give me all those details later. But I'm sure we'd both like to know more about our future brother-in-law." Robbie nodded obediently.  
  
"His name is Rick. He's a doctor here." Megan blushed. "Why do you think I've visited Robbie on Mars so often during the past two months?"  
  
Robbie laughed. "I had hoped it was because you enjoyed my company. I didn't realize you were sneaking off to the med center every chance you got." He paused and furrowed his brow. "Rick? Richard Marley?" Megan nodded.  
  
"Who's this Richard Marley?" Jenny asked.  
  
"My fiancé," Megan said with a satisfied smile. "Don't you have a ship to command?"  
  
"Not yet." Jenny grinned.  
  
"Robbie, how's the new Astrometrics lab?" Megan asked, as she finally pulled her hand away.  
  
"Megan," Jenny began, "you're avoiding the issue."  
  
Megan rolled her eyes. "Very well. Rick is an intern here. As soon as he completes his residency, we're getting married."  
  
Jenny shook her head in disbelief and surprise. This was her sister...the one who had sworn to remain single for life.  
  
"He has a twin brother in Starfleet, by the way," Megan added. "He's currently stationed on the _Amadeus_."  
  
Jenny groaned. "Oh, no you don't, Megan! I know how your mind works. Don't start playing matchmaker. I like being single."  
  
Megan rolled her eyes. "Fine. Now, when do I get to leave this place? Hospitals give a whole new meaning to the word boring."  
  
"Unless your fiancé is here, you mean?" Jenny asked with a knowing look.  
  
"They said something about letting you out in another few hours," Robbie said. "Once all your biosigns are back to normal. But you're supposed to avoid strenuous exercise—" he blushed when both sisters snickered, "—stop that! No strenuous exercise for at least a week. It's probably a good idea to remain in bed...Oh never mind," he said, raising his voice over their giggling. "You two are hopeless."  
  
"Now that I know you'll live," Jenny said, "I have seventy-two hours for you to show me the sights. Start planning where we're going to go tomorrow."  
  
"There are some lovely mountains to climb," Megan said. "But are you sure you came all this way just to see me?" She pointed toward the ceiling. "I believe _Voyager_ _II_ is up there. Maybe you could stop by and say hello to some old friends."  
  
"Perhaps I will," Jenny said non-committedly. "More importantly, when do I get to meet this Rick?"  
  
"Tomorrow," Megan said with a sigh. "I had invited him to meet Robbie, but now he can meet you, too." She yawned. "Damn, the drugs are kicking in..." She yawned again.  
  
Jenny leaned over and gave her a kiss on her cheek. "We'll see you later. Get some sleep." She yanked on Robbie's arm.  
  
"Bye, Meg," Robbie said. "Take care."  
  
"And now," Jenny said to Robbie when they'd cleared the door, "_you_ are going to tell me everything you know about Richard Marley!"  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter written by Christina


	13. Jenny Delaney's Assignment

***13***  
  
**Starfleet Training Facility/Command School, San Francisco-May 12, Stardate 57362.1**  
  
Elizabeth Wren, Jenny's roommate, looked up as Jenny entered the room. "How's your sister?"  
  
"She'll live," Jenny said as she tossed her duffel bag on the bed.  
  
"I'm glad to hear that." Elizabeth added casually, "While you were on Mars, did you happen to see Captain Janeway?"  
  
Jenny stared at Elizabeth, then shook her head. "My intention was not to see Captain Janeway."  
  
Elizabeth smiled—almost knowingly. "Well, all right," Jenny admitted with a sigh. "I did try. But _Voyager__ II_ was on a test flight. They're not due back till the end of the week."  
  
"That's too bad."  
  
Alerted to the excitement in her roommate's voice, Jenny asked, "Beth, did anything happen while I was away that I should know about?"  
  
"Nothing, really. Just a rumor going around that the assignments are being announced tomorrow."  
  
"That's several weeks early," Jenny said in astonishment. "I wonder what's up?"  
  
"And Captain Smith wants to see you as soon as you come in the door," Elizabeth finished.  
  
"Why didn't you tell me!?" Jenny bolted out of her room.  
  
After a quick jog across the Academy grounds, she arrived at Captain Smith's office. She pulled at her uniform to straighten it as she entered. "Lieutenant Jennifer Delaney. I understand Captain Smith wants to see me," Jenny said to the aide at the desk.  
  
"Let me check to see if he is available," the Vulcan lieutenant said, and spoke into the comm line in a low voice. Jenny wondered why the commandant wanted to see her. "You may go in."  
  
"Thank you," she said. Once inside, she snapped to attention. "Lieutenant Delaney reporting, sir."  
  
"At ease," Smith said. "I hope your sister is all right?"  
  
"Yes, sir," Jenny responded.  
  
"Good. Your next assignment came through while you were gone." He slid a PADD over toward her. "I'm afraid it's not _Voyager_."  
  
She bit back her disappointment. She'd known the competition had been fierce for all the positions on the first transwarp vessel, but she'd still hoped. She picked up the PADD and gaped in astonishment.  
  
"Sir, I'm being assigned to the _Odyssey_?"  
  
Smith nodded. "_Voyager_'s sister ship. Congratulations. My understanding is Captain La Forge personally asked for you. Of course, you still have several weeks of classes, not to mention final exams, until you can report." He smiled at her restrained excitement. "I'll see you in class tomorrow, Delaney. Dismissed."  
  
"Yes, sir!"  
  
Jenny did an about face then allowed herself to smile. She was to be in charge of the Astrometrics Department of the _Odyssey_. She would be returning to the Delta Quadrant in a few months—just not on _Voyager_.  
  
She was halfway back to her dorm room when she remembered that she still needed to finish a term paper that was due soon. She glanced at the PADD.  
  
Celebrate, then write. She did have two weeks.  
  
But she also had to play catch up for the days she'd missed. "No rest for the wicked," she muttered. "And speaking of wicked, I do need to find an engagement gift for my sister."  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter written by Christina


	14. Advice from a Vocal Coach

  
***14***  
  
**Studio of Mme. Victoria Samuels, Vienna, Austria-May 18, Stardate 57378.4**  
  
Ensign Marie Stevens clutched the PADD tightly in her hand, still undecided whether to be elated or depressed. She glanced toward her mentor and teacher, Victoria Samuels.  
  
"I've heard the news. How exciting! Congratulations." The gray-haired woman sat down at the piano and began to play one of Marie's favorite pieces, a composition by the 23rd century Vulcan harpist Verian that had been adapted for the Terran piano. The sound of the familiar chords was soothing.  
  
"And if I don't want to go?"  
  
"Marie, this is exactly the kind of opportunity any young Starfleet officer wants. And despite your protestations, your science is as important to you as your singing."  
  
"My parents are the ones who wanted me to have a career in Starfleet," Marie said with a sigh.  
  
"Your family is proud of their heritage. They've served in Starfleet from its very beginnings."  
  
"But that doesn't mean I have to carry on the tradition," Marie said rebelliously.  
  
"Would you like to reschedule your lesson today, Marie?" Victoria asked, her hands pausing on the keys.  
  
Marie took a deep breath. "No, no. I'm ready. Sorry." She quickly ran through her warming up exercises and then proceeded to the aria she'd been working on recently. She loved singing—even though, to her mother, music represented at best a distraction, and at worst, a waste of Marie's time. It was only through the intervention of her recently departed aunt that Marie had even had a chance to have private lessons. Her family expected her to give up this _fad_ any day and become a respectable Starfleet officer. They were sure she was destined to become Admiral Marie Stevens, and would join the long and illustrious line of admirals from their family.  
  
She didn't give the PADD with her orders another look. She let her mind go blank except for the music, trying to recapture that elusive state where nothing exists but melody.  
  
Victoria stopped playing after only a few minutes. "I fear there are too many distractions today."  
  
"I'm sorry," Marie said in dismay. "I'm trying to focus, but..."  
  
"But it's difficult," Victoria finished. She was silent for a long moment. "Marie, I have known you for many years. I have never presumed to give you advice before, except in regard to musical matters. But I say to you now, you should go on this mission."  
  
"Are you serious?" Marie asked, shocked by her mentor's declaration. "That's not what I expected to hear you say."  
  
"I think you should go so you can gain a true taste of what Starfleet is like, the better to make your eventual decision of which career path you will choose. Do you want to be a Starfleet officer, or an opera singer?"  
  
"But—"  
  
"No buts, my dear. You can either be a great Starfleet officer or a great opera star; but you cannot be both. Not if you wish to truly excel. And I know you, my dear. You will never be content as just a 'dabbler.' " Victoria closed the lid to the piano and approached Marie. "Even if you are on a ship crossing the galaxy, I can still help you with your music. I have some excellent holoprograms you can bring with you to study with while you're away." She picked up the small box on the piano and started to hand it to Marie.  
  
"This isn't a short mission, Madame. It's expected to take at least a year, maybe longer. I'll be gone for such a long time..."  
  
Victoria nodded. "That's true. But all good decisions involve time to think." She forced the box into Marie's hands. "Here, I've included a few surprises."  
  
Marie looked at the old-fashioned wood box. "I can't take this, Victoria. You've spent years collecting and developing these programs."  
  
"Yes, you can. I _want_ you to have them. This way, a part of me will get to journey to the far reaches of the galaxy along with you. I will always be with you in spirit, my dear. Remember that when you practice your pieces." Victoria smiled and gave the back of Marie's hand a little pat before confidently adding, "When must you report for duty?"  
  
"In another three weeks." Marie didn't add, "unless I resign my commission." That went without saying. But her mother was correct. This was a plum assignment, and she'd gotten it on her own merit. Marie had told her family that if there was even a _hint_ of assistance from them, she would resign on the spot.  
  
"Then I will say _'bon voyage' _now and wish you luck." Victoria wrapped her arms around her favorite pupil. "I will see you when you get back."  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter written by Christina


	15. Joe Carey Confirms His Decision

  
***15***  
  
**Cobh, County Cork, Ireland-May 23, Stardate 57392.1**  
  
The baby's fretful wail penetrated Joe's sleep-fogged brain. He sat up in bed, immediately alert. One thing about all those years of serving in Starfleet, one developed the ability to come awake instantly. He checked the chronometer: 0245. Beside him, Annie stirred slightly.  
  
"Shh, go back to sleep," he said as he swung his legs out of bed and groped for his slippers. "I'll get her."  
  
"I fed her less than an hour ago," Annie said, her last few words partially obscured by a giant yawn. "She can't possibly be hungry again."  
  
"But for whatever reason, she's not ready to settle down just yet," Joe answered. He paused by the door. "Go back to sleep, love," he said again.  
  
There was no answer; Annie had fallen back asleep quickly—small wonder she had. Between the demands of a busy household, their other children, and a colicky newborn, Annie wasn't getting very much rest these days. He didn't want to think what it would be like when she finished her maternity leave and went back to her hectic schedule at the University.  
  
He padded down the hall quietly, though if the baby's crying hadn't awakened JJ and Patrick by now, he doubted his own footsteps would. He stepped into the nursery. In the glow of the nightlight, the holographic images of bunnies and bears stood out starkly on the walls and threw the face of the red-faced baby in the crib into high relief.  
  
"Easy, easy, Caitlyn," he murmured, scooping her up and cradling her on his shoulder. "Shh, Daddy's here. It's all right."  
  
The baby's cries gradually faded into a series of hiccuping sobs. "That's my girl," he said. He patted her back soothingly. "There's nothing to cry about." He stiffened as his hand made contact with wet cloth. "So that's your problem?" The baby started fussing again when he laid her on the changing table. Joe swiftly put on a fresh diaper and one-piece coverall, then picked up the baby again. "Your brothers were both sleeping through the night by six weeks," he informed her. Caitlyn did not appear to be impressed by this information. "Ready to go back to bed now?" But the baby protested when he tried to return her to the crib. With a sigh, Joe headed downstairs, his stubbornly wide awake daughter on his shoulder.  
  
A full moon rode high in the sky, easily visible from the window in his study. Joe leaned on the sill, breathing in the unseasonably warm fresh air, enjoying the utter stillness. At this hour, nothing was stirring outside, no sounds could be heard. The stars shone brightly. He shifted the baby in his arms. "See that, Caitlyn? Those three stars in a row? That's Orion's belt. And that star over there, that's Sirius. In another couple of months, it'll be one of the brightest objects in the sky."  
  
A loud burp was his only response.  
  
Joe chuckled but continued the lesson. "The stars look like they're twinkling when you see them from a planetary surface, because of temperature differences in the atmosphere, distortions from nearby city lights. But out in space they hold steady. Unless you're going at warp, and then you get the distortion streaks."  
  
He fell silent for a moment, thinking of the delicate white lattice framework of the slipstream conduit, the faster-than-warp drive which had brought them home, which had now been surpassed by the new transwarp technology. "And in the Delta Quadrant, the constellations are very different. Even though there are times now when I think they'd be more familiar to me than the ones I see in Earth's night sky..."  
  
He turned around at the sound of footsteps. To his surprise, Annie stood in the doorway. "I thought you were asleep," he said. "Aren't you tired?"  
  
"Oh, I'm definitely tired," Annie said as she joined him at the window. "Just like you are. I'll take the baby, Joe. You can go back to bed."  
  
"You're busy with Caitlyn all day long," he protested. "You need a break. Not to mention, a good night's sleep."  
  
"And you don't? You're putting in such long days over at Utopia Planitia. You'll be so tired tomorrow."  
  
"I can catch a nap on the commuter shuttle," he reminded her. He smiled. "You wouldn't begrudge me some quality time alone with my daughter, now would you?"  
  
Annie smiled as well, though her gaze remained fixed on his face. "Trying to turn her into an Astrometrics specialist? I'm surprised. I would've thought you were grooming her for Engineering."  
  
Joe laughed. "JJ already decided that Engineering's going to be his major field of study at the Academy next year." He added, "If he gets in."  
  
"He'll get in," Annie said confidently. "His grades have improved a lot over the past six months. The tutoring has helped."  
  
"He's in for a tough time, though, once he starts as a cadet. Do you have any idea how heavy his course load is going to be?"  
  
"Which is why he's enrolled in one of the best Starfleet prep schools in the country," Annie said, laying her head against Joe's chest.  
  
He slipped his free arm around her, careful to still support the baby on his other shoulder. "You're right. It's a good academic environment for him to be in." He repeated, "A good environment."  
  
"I heard you talking about the Delta Quadrant, Joe." She hesitated. "Do you still think about it a lot?"  
  
"Yes," he admitted.  
  
"About the fact that your former captain and crew mates are going back there?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
She pulled away from him a bit till she was looking him in the face once more. "Do you have any regrets about turning down a spot on the mission?"  
  
"No," he said immediately.  
  
"Really?" she persisted.  
  
"I like my work at Utopia Planitia. It's challenging, working on cutting edge technology. My hands are pretty full at the moment, love," he said with a grin, tightening his grip around her waist to prove his point.  
  
She refused to make a joke of it. "I mean it, Joe. Any regrets?"  
  
He thought carefully for a long moment. Images of the slipstream conduit flashed through his mind once more, coupled with the looks of triumph on B'Elanna's and Geordi La Forge's faces when they'd solved the problems of the transwarp drive. He saw the first pinpoint of light at the end of a starless Void, as _Voyager_ emerged from the darkness and beheld strange new nebulae and star clusters never before seen by human eyes. He heard the bustle of the crew in _Voyager_'s Mess Hall, the clicking of cues on the pool table in Sandrine's. He felt the throbbing of the deck beneath his feet, the shudder of the ship while under attack, and heard the sound of the red alert klaxon.  
  
"Yes," he answered slowly. "There are times I wish I was going as well, to be a part of the next new adventure. But it's not practical for us now, Annie, not at this stage of our lives. I don't want to be separated from you or the children again, even for just a year or two."  
  
"There's a colony ship going as well," Annie reminded him. "Filled with families. We wouldn't have to be apart."  
  
"Are you seriously considering packing up and going?" he asked her, astonished, but careful to keep his voice down. Caitlyn's steady breathing indicated that she had fallen asleep at last. "Uproot the boys from their home and school at this critical time in their lives? And what about your own career?" he reminded her. "You've just gotten tenure at the University."  
  
"I didn't say I would be ready to leave next month," she said calmly. "I agree with you. The timing isn't right for us to go now." She smiled suddenly. "And you forgot to mention a newborn baby in your reasons of why this wouldn't be a good idea."  
  
"This little one would be the easiest of the children to deal with," he said wryly. "Much easier than her brothers, at least until she learns to walk. Or talk back."  
  
Annie rolled her eyes. "But what I'm trying to say, love, is don't rule out going back some time in the future. Maybe in a few years when the boys are in University—"  
  
"Or the Academy," he put in.  
  
"And Caitlyn is older—"  
  
"—and keeping to a more normal sleeping schedule—"  
  
"—we might think of spending some time at the colony on New Earth. It's going to be around for a good long while." She put her hand over his against her waist and squeezed. "Just keep your options open for someday."  
  
"Someday," he agreed. Careful not to disturb Caitlyn, he leaned over and kissed his wife gently. "But right now, I've got everything I need right here."  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter written by Rocky


	16. Act 3—The Crews Take Shape

**_Act 3—The Crews Take Shape_  
**  
***16***  
  
**Starfleet Housing Complex, San Francisco-May 24, Stardate 57395.3**  
  
"I don't believe it." Chakotay tossed the PADD he'd been reading onto his desk, pushed his chair back, and stood up.  
  
"I just don't believe it," he repeated.  
  
"What?"  
  
Kathryn, who was deeply engrossed in the latest set of engineering reports B'Elanna had forwarded to her that afternoon, didn't look up until Chakotay's shadow fell across the PADD she was studying.  
  
They had, after some discussion, decided to try setting up a shared office in their apartment, and the experiment was going well. In fact, they found many advantages to the arrangement, not the least of which was being able to bounce ideas off one another at a moment's notice. But they often worked together for hours in easy silence, each of them able to concentrate completely on his or her own task, yet each comfortably aware of the other.  
  
"What?" She asked him again, and pushed aside the schematics she had been studying to focus her attention on her obviously agitated companion.  
  
"Take a look." He retrieved the PADD from his desk, activated it and scrolled through it until he found the page he sought, and gave it to her.  
  
"I take it there's something or someone on this list you're not too happy about, Chakotay," she said, after she'd looked it over for a moment.  
  
"Dr. Sakar's second assistant," he replied.  
  
"Ah...yes..." she said, and handed him the PADD. "Your favorite student, right?"  
  
"Amado was the bane of my existence on the Sherman's Planet expedition," Chakotay recalled. "I can't remember ever being so relieved to be rid of a student. It's not that he's unintelligent," he continued, "but it's his attitude. There's enthusiasm, there's bravado, and then there's carelessness. Amado definitely falls into the latter categories."  
  
Kathryn nodded. "I remember you mentioning him."  
  
"Arrogant too. How he got himself onto Sakar's staff I'll never know," Chakotay took the PADD from her and stared down at the offending name again, as if willing it to disappear.  
  
Kathryn couldn't help grinning at him. "Chakotay, maybe the young man has matured a bit since he's joined Dr. Sakar's staff. And he'll be Sakar's responsibility, anyhow. You probably won't have to have much to do with him at all."  
  
"I know, but somehow, he got under my skin," he replied with a reluctant smile. "You're right, of course. I'll leave him to Sakar. Hopefully he'll keep the boy so busy with scut work, I won't run across him very often."  
  
Chakotay deactivated the PADD and tossed it back onto his desk. "The rest of the team looks good, though, doesn't it? T'Pel has been a great help to me. She was the one who suggested I contact the Fareledon Society on Tarken Prime. Her contacts there were invaluable. We've got some of the foremost archaeologists, sociologists and anthropologists in the quadrant on our roster. And of course Kimani Zaji was a wonderful addition, too. She's the one who convinced Debling to join us."  
  
"Even I'm impressed, Chakotay," Kathryn teased him. "Debling is quite coup. I remember reading a paper he wrote refuting Professor Harding's theory of diffusionism and acculturation among the Benari tribes after three independent studies corroborated his findings. And Debling was right."  
  
"I'm a bit worried about him, though," Chakotay mused, "I've heard he's a bit of a prima donna. But I'm really looking forward to working with Benda Avika," he continued. "I've never actually met her, but I've watched all the vids of the lecture series she did on the origins of tribal rituals in the Marqu'at sector. I believe her methodology is very similar to mine."  
  
"Perhaps you should ask her to instruct Adamo on acceptable behavior during excavations."  
  
Chakotay stared at her for a moment and then laughed. "Kathryn, sometimes you amaze me."  
  
She grinned. "And why is that?"  
  
"Because you've come up with a brilliant idea. A series of short seminars for the entire team might just be the way to go here. Getting them all them all together a few times before we leave will be beneficial on so many levels. They're all experts in their respective fields, but the Delta Quadrant is going to be filled with challenges they haven't met before—probably never even imagined—and as you and I both know, cohesive team-work is essential to any successes we hope to achieve. Egos don't work in the Delta Quadrant. I can ask each one of them to prepare brief presentations on their areas of expertise and what they hope to achieve on this mission. And I can remind them that they—no, we," he corrected himself, "are a team. We can discuss protocols, procedures, sharing information, working together..."  
  
"Not to mention acceptable conduct and attitude during excavations" Kathryn interrupted him.  
  
"Oh, absolutely," he replied, as he sat down again. "I'm going to start getting this organized right away."  
  
An hour and a half later Chakotay pushed himself away from his desk once more with a satisfied grunt. "Done." He exclaimed. "I've sent out the invitations, along with a tentative agenda."  
  
"Good timing," Kathryn said. "I've just sent my report back to B'Elanna, How about a cup of coffee?"  
  
"Sounds good," he said. "I'll get it."  
  
"I was hoping you'd say that," she replied and stood up, stretching. "Ouch...I've got a crick..."  
  
"Perhaps I can be of assistance?" He grinned and stepped behind her. Kathryn bent her head forward, and he dropped a light kiss on the back of her neck just before he began his gentle massage, expertly attacking the muscles he knew from experience would be cramped and sore.  
  
"Soooo good," she sighed, and he felt her relax against him.  
  
"Come on," he said, "Let's get that coffee now."  
  
"More?" she asked, referring to his ministrations, as he tugged at her hand, pulling her towards the kitchen.  
  
"Later," he replied with another grin, and she responded in kind.  
  
While Chakotay prepared the coffee, Kathryn arranged a tray and brought it into the living room. It was only after the coffee was poured and both of them had had their first sip that Chakotay spoke again.  
  
"Kathryn, have you given any more thought to the dedication ceremonies? I believe Star Fleet wants to give us a real send off."  
  
"And I'm not exactly thrilled about it," she replied. "But at least they asked for my input. What I'd like to do is to just leave with no fuss and bother, but I know they've got so much invested in this mission, that's not an option. I've had a couple of discussions," Chakotay smiled at the word, "with Admiral Hayes about it. I'm afraid they're all adamant the press be involved. It's going to be a free for all," she sighed.  
  
"Which is why we're going to have our own ceremony after the brass and the press and the rest of the circus has gone," he reminded her. "And that one's going to be just the way we want it. Speaking of which, I spoke to your mother this morning, and she said to tell you she and Phoebe will be there with bells on. I admit that conjured up quite an image," he added.  
  
"It's an old expression from my childhood," Kathryn explained. "My father used it all the time."  
  
She took his now empty coffee cup and placed it along with her own on the table in front of them, before standing up and reaching for his hand.  
  
"I seem to remember you promised me a back rub a little while ago," she said, as she pulled him up and off the couch.  
  
"Ah yes," he replied, "I do remember that. And you know I always keep my promises..."  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter written by CyberMum


	17. Reunion on Utopia Planitia

  
***17***  
  
**Utopia Planitia-May 25, Stardate 57397.5**  
  
Tom poked his head in the doorway of the Transwarp Lab. "Hey, anybody here seen my wife? She's petite, shapely, with an amazing mind and a temper to match. She promised to meet me ten minutes ago."  
  
B'Elanna looked up from the console she was studying. "Very funny. I was just about to leave."  
  
"We'll include those figures, Commander Torres. Thank you."  
  
B'Elanna nodded to Btak. "If Commander Darsi has any question about them, tell him to...well, just tell him they're right."  
  
Btak cracked a small smile. "I will."  
  
Tom moved back and B'Elanna strode through the door. He waved. "See you, Btak." Btak only nodded absently, her attention already on her work again.  
  
"I don't know how they'll survive without you," Tom said as they walked out of the Engineering Design and Research Center. Though B'Elanna was assigned to _Voyager II_ full time, she still occasionally consulted for the Transwarp Lab. That was the case today when Btak requested her input.  
  
"Joe can handle it. The transwarp project is his now."  
  
Like everything in Starfleet, the transwarp project was ongoing. Just because B'Elanna and Geordi had made it viable, that didn't mean it couldn't be improved—endlessly. And Tom didn't doubt Joe Carey could handle it. He'd done a lot of the early work, after all. Though he was sorry Joe wouldn't be coming with _Voyager_ and _Odyssey_, Tom knew, and understood, that Joe's first priority was his family.  
  
"The bigger challenge for Joe will be keeping Darsi and Btak from driving each other crazy."  
  
Tom smiled at B'Elanna's observation. Btak was solemn and reserved, the total opposite of Darsi, and very different from the average Denobulan. Though Denobula had been one of the earliest members of the Federation, few Denobulans chose to join Starfleet. They were curious, sociable, and dedicated to their work, but very independent, and generally disliked the regimented life inherent in Starfleet. Btak seemed to enjoy that regimentation, though the one of her several husbands Tom had met was more typical of Denobulans, congenial and loquacious. He supposed their opposite personalities attracted. He wondered if all Btak's other husbands had similar personalities—  
  
"Tom, this way." B'Elanna pulled him down the corridor that led to the arboretum. "What are you thinking about?"  
  
"Besides how I couldn't imagine sharing you with anyone else?" B'Elanna looked at him like he was crazy, and Tom grinned. "I was thinking how opposites attract. For instance a fun-loving, free-spirited flyboy is an irresistible draw to an intense and dedicated engineer-type woman—"  
  
B'Elanna shot him a droll look. "Maybe opposites attract romantically, for reasons I certainly can't comprehend, but they don't always work well together."  
  
Tom grinned. "Btak will eventually succumb to Darsi's charm. Maybe she'll make him her next husband."  
  
"His current boyfriend might object," B'Elanna said. "In any case, they'll have to work it out. Getting _Voyager_ ready for this mission is more than enough for me to think about now."  
  
Tom nodded as they walked into the arboretum. He knew B'Elanna was still a little uncomfortable with the idea of this mission. He couldn't say he was all that thrilled with it either. Though he tried to think about it as little as possible, he wasn't likely to ever forget their traumatic first-hand experience with the Vidiians, or his inability to stop what they did to B'Elanna or save Pete Durst. Instead of focusing on the Vidiians, he preferred to focus on the fact that they would be seeing Kes again, the Kes that they remembered and loved.  
  
"Irina said they would be playing on the grass." B'Elanna said, as they passed by a small stand of Chinese elms and crossed over the stone bridge that forded a narrow stream. A mother duck paddled in the water below them, followed by half a dozen furry yellow ducklings strung out behind her. Tom saw several children running and playing on the grassy knoll beyond the stream, with an aide from the children's center watching over them. After a moment he spotted Miral, talking to a man who was kneeling next to her, a man wearing a Starfleet uniform.  
  
B'Elanna spoke first. "Is that—"  
  
"Miral!" Tom shouted. "Haven't I told you not to talk to strangers?"  
  
Miral turned as her parents jogged toward her. "He's not strange, Daddy. He's Uncle Harry!"  
  
"Then he's definitely strange!"  
  
Harry laughed as Tom reached him and enveloped him in a bear hug. "I thought you weren't arriving for two more days," Tom said, stepping back so B'Elanna could give Harry a hug.  
  
"Admiral Cheddigwan requested Captain Picard's presence for some sort of urgent diplomatic meeting, so we went to high warp."  
  
"Admiral Cheddigwan is a difficult man to refuse," Tom said. Despite the admiral's austere reputation, he was a fair man and ran the station with practiced expertise. He even had a sense of humor, albeit a very dry one. In fact, he reminded Tom a bit of Captain Picard in carriage and appearance, if somewhat taller and broader.  
  
"I also couldn't wait to see my goddaughter again, even if she's deserted me for her playmates." Harry smiled as he watched Miral run across the grass toward the other children.  
  
"Are you still on duty?" B'Elanna asked.  
  
"Not until seven hundred hours tomorrow. Then I have two more days on _Enterprise_, after which I'll be on leave for a week until I'm officially transferred to _Odyssey_."  
  
"You're going to really enjoy working under Geordi La Forge," B'Elanna said. "Admiral Cheddigwan is still mourning his loss. Geordi's going to make a wonderful starship captain."  
  
"He's a great guy," Tom agreed. "I'm sure you'll like _Odyssey_, but I still wish you had been assigned to _Voyager_."  
  
"I know Captain Janeway requested me," Harry said, a note of gratitude in his voice. "But Starfleet Command felt it wouldn't have been a good career move for me."  
  
"I suppose not--not if you're going to make captain before forty."  
  
Harry grinned at Tom's prediction. "I don't know about that, but I do appreciate Starfleet's interest in advancing my career."  
  
"They should be interested," B'Elanna said. "Besides, _Voyager_ and _Odyssey_ will be following the same course for several months, so we'll all see plenty of each other."  
  
"I'm glad, because I've really missed you guys. And my goddaughter," Harry added as Miral ran toward them again. He smiled down at her. "Hey, beautiful. How come I haven't found a girl like you to marry?"  
  
"I marry you, Uncle Harry," Miral said, raising her arms.  
  
Harry laughed and lifted her into the air. "I just might take you up on that, sweetie, in about twenty years."  
  
Tom was glad to see Harry joking about the subject of marriage. That had to be a good sign. "I can't quite see myself as your father-in-law, Harry," he said, smirking.  
  
Harry's eyes widened in mock horror. "It defies the imagination, doesn't it?"  
  
B'Elanna snorted. "Before we plan any weddings, Miral has an appointment for a dental cleaning in twenty minutes."  
  
Miral shook her head and wrapped her arms around Harry's neck. "Stay with Harry."  
  
"You're coming to dinner tonight," Tom stated, leaving Harry no option for refusal.  
  
"I wouldn't miss it," Harry said. He smiled at Miral. "So I'll see you soon, okay? You go with your mom now."  
  
B'Elanna took a still reluctant Miral from Harry. "I'll take care of this," she said to Tom. "You and Harry catch up. Miral and I will see you at home in a couple of hours."  
  
Tom gave her a grateful look and grinned at Miral, whose eyes were tearing up. "Pizza party tonight, okay?"  
  
Miral smiled through her tears, and B'Elanna gave Tom an admonishing look. Maybe it was a bit of bribery, since he'd said it partly to stop Miral from erupting into screams, but Harry's return was also a reason for celebration. He pecked B'Elanna on the lips. "I'll take care of the pizza."  
  
B'Elanna's look said, "You bet you will." She smiled at Harry. "See you later, Starfleet."  
  
"She's really going to be a heartbreaker," Harry said, as B'Elanna departed with Miral in her arms.  
  
"Just so you know, she's not allowed to date until she's thirty."  
  
Harry laughed. "Good luck with that. I feel sorry for you already."  
  
Thankfully, Tom had a few years before he had to worry about that. "Why don't we grab a beer? There's a small bar in the observation lounge, and you can tell me all about your adventures on the_ Enterprise_."  
  
"Sounds good," Harry said.  
  
"I also want to hear about your latest Captain Proton adventures," Tom added as they walked toward the bridge. "How many times has he saved Earth now?"  
  
"I guess I forgot to tell you. I felt a little strange playing Captain Proton, since that was your alter-ego, so I created a new hero."  
  
Tom's eyebrows rose. "Really?" He shook his head. "No hero can hold a candle to Captain Proton."  
  
"Ah, but you haven't met Captain Neutron."  
  
"Captain Neutron?" Tom laughed loud enough to attract several curious looks. "That's not exactly original."  
  
Harry shrugged. "Maybe not, but he can kick Captain Proton's butt."  
  
Tom saw the gleam in Harry's eyes, and laughed again. "Not in this universe, my friend."  
  
"Think not? Why don't we reserve a station holosuite while I'm on leave, and you can put your credits where your mouth is?"  
  
Tom grinned broadly. "You're on!" He clapped Harry on the shoulder. "It's good to have you back, buddy."  
  
Harry smiled as they exited the arboretum. "It's good to be back."  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter written by Julie


	18. Unexpected Personnel

  
***18***  
  
**Captain's Ready Room, **_Voyager_ _II_, May 26, 2381 Stardate 57400.3  
  
Janeway handed the PADD to Tuvok and waited for his reaction.  
  
His expression didn't change as he took in its contents at a glance. "Disturbing, but not entirely unexpected, Captain."  
  
"No, it isn't." Janeway got up and began to pace. "When the Federation announced plans for establishing a colony in the Delta Quadrant, the Romulans immediately began charging that we had 'expansionist aims' in the galaxy." She sighed. "I believe the Praetor's exact words were, 'Are there to be no limits to the Terran Empire?'"  
  
Tuvok laid the PADD back on the desk. "That statement is inaccurate, as humans make up only one species out of the total number of members in the Federation."  
  
"He wasn't going for accuracy, Tuvok; he was playing on emotions." Janeway shook her head. "But the Federation's reaction, as you said, was not unexpected."  
  
"The proposal is a reasonable compromise."  
  
"I suppose." Janeway sat down once more. "The Romulans want to have their own shot at setting up colonies in the 'new' territory of the Delta Quadrant, but at the same time have no practical means of getting there. And Starfleet would never agree to simply handing over transwarp technology. Which is why we're going to be stuck with them on this voyage."  
  
"According to the memo from Admiral Hayes," Tuvok said, reading it once again, "A Romulan 'observer' and two aides will be accompanying us, in order to 'scout' locations for a possible future base."  
  
Janeway muttered, "And good luck to them finding one." As if they didn't already know about the relative lack of uninhabited or unclaimed Class-M planets in the region, they had Kes' reports of her own nearly unsuccessful search in the past year. "Yes, they'll be bringing a runabout with them in order to move around freely once we reach the Delta Quadrant. They won't have to depend on us for transportation."  
  
"A wise move," Tuvok noted, "as such continued dependence would hamper their activities, not to mention our own." He paused. "And what will happen once they return and report to their leaders that they have found a suitable planet?"  
  
"That's not an immediate concern, Tuvok. We're talking about a point at least a few years in the future."  
  
Tuvok raised a questioning brow. "That is not an adequate response, Captain. If the Romulans intend to set up a colony, they will then need to transport large quantities of materials to the Delta Quadrant as well as the individuals involved. Do you think the Federation will be willing to render them assistance at that time?"  
  
_If they intend to colonize, and this is not just an excuse to keep an eye on our efforts_, Janeway thought. "Who knows?" she said aloud. "A lot can happen in a couple of years. Perhaps the Romulans will manage to develop a faster-than-warp drive of their own. It's no secret that they've been working on it."  
  
"Yes, one should not underestimate the Romulans and their quest to obtain new forms of technology," Tuvok said dryly. She guessed he was thinking of the 'rogue' attempt at intercepting _Voyager_ as soon as they re-entered Federation space on their return from the Delta Quadrant. Tuvok continued, "So the Romulan observer and his entourage will be on board _Voyager_?"  
  
"Oh, no—they'll be on _Pioneer_, with the rest of the civilians." Janeway smiled humorlessly. "Which means they'll be Ambassador Diaza's problem."  
  
Tuvok's gaze met hers. "On the contrary, I suspect the Romulan observer and Ambassador Diaza will both be Captain Merves's problem."  
  
She snorted. "You're probably right. Would you believe Diaza is _still_ complaining about his ship assignment? He seems to feel that he belongs on board _Voyager_."  
  
"He may be correct," Tuvok said thoughtfully. "After all, _Voyager_ is the lead ship on this mission, and Ambassador Diaza is the head of the diplomatic delegation. In addition, there is the fact that he will be the governor of the new colony."  
  
Janeway glared at him. "Whose side are you on, Tuvok?"  
  
"Side, Captain?" he said innocently.  
  
"You know what I mean."  
  
"I do indeed," Tuvok said. "And I concur that it is probably best for all concerned that the Ambassador will not be traveling with us."  
  
Janeway sat back, mollified for the moment. "Of course, this means that we can't have Neelix and Sarexa traveling with us on _Voyager_ either." She brightened. "Officially, that is, but fortunately, that does not extend to 'visits.'"  
  
"Most definitely," Tuvok said in agreement. "However, I imagine there will be a lot of 'traffic' back and forth between the ships. Chakotay and T'Pel will need to consult and coordinate with the other members of the research team."  
  
"Not to mention Captain La Forge, Captain Merves, and I will be doing much of the same thing," Janeway said. "And our security officers will need to converse regularly as well."  
  
After so many years of serving together, she still instinctively thought of Tuvok as the one in charge of security. Granted, whenever he was off duty, another officer had filled the role; but even then, Tactical had always been Tuvok's station and no one else's. It was going to take some time to get used to the fact that this mission was going to be very different than the last one, she realized again.  
  
"Speaking of our security officer, I have been in contact with Lieutenant Ishtak," Tuvok remarked. "I wanted to ensure that he was thoroughly briefed on our past contacts with the Vidiians and the other hostile races in the region."  
  
Trust Tuvok to be thorough. And perhaps this was also his way of adjusting to his changed role, although as first officer, it was his duty to make sure all department heads were kept informed of all pertinent information. "And was he?"  
  
"I have no complaints regarding the lieutenant's preparation," Tuvok said, which was high praise indeed.  
  
"Ishtak has a good service record," Janeway said. She tapped the PADD containing the duty roster, bringing up the Klingon's name. "He was the Deputy Chief of Security on Starbase Four for the last two years—Acting Chief for a third of that time—and from the reports I've read, he takes his duties very seriously." She hesitated. "I'm glad you approve. I was wondering if it would be difficult for you to see someone else taking your spot."  
  
"My spot, Captain?" Tuvok asked.  
  
"Your former position. Tuvok, you've been my chief of security for many years, ever since my first command on the _Billings_."  
  
He looked at her a moment before answering. "I think a more accurate question, Captain, would be if you will have any difficulty seeing another officer at my former station."  
  
His words echoed what had just gone through her mind a few minutes earlier. Janeway flushed slightly. "Tuvok, believe me when I say I would much prefer seeing you occupying the first officer's seat. I simply thought it would be an adjustment for you."  
  
"I have occupied the center seat on more than one occasion in the past, Captain," he replied seriously. "When you and Commander Chakotay contracted the virus which necessitated leaving you behind on New Earth, you did entrust me with command of the vessel."  
  
"That's true, I did," she said. She was about to add, "I could think of no better hands to leave _Voyager_ in," when he continued.  
  
"And you will also recall that you elevated me temporarily to the position of first officer after you relieved Commander Chakotay of his duties following your 'disagreement' during the _Equinox_ affair."  
  
Janeway shifted uneasily in her seat. She wanted no reminders of that time. She still felt hot with embarrassment as she recalled her inexcusable behavior toward Noah Lessing which had precipitated that 'disagreement.' _I nearly stepped over a line that should never have been crossed, regardless of extenuating circumstances. Thank God Chakotay had the guts to pull me back from the brink._  
  
Perhaps sensing her discomfort, Tuvok said quietly, "I will have no difficulty adjusting to my new role, Captain. But I cannot help but wonder how it will be for you to see someone other than Chakotay sitting in the chair next to you."  
  
"There is no one else I would rather have there than you, Tuvok," she told him firmly.  
  
His eyes met hers and she could have sworn she saw a hint of emotion in their depths. "Thank you, Captain. It is good to be serving with you once again." He paused. "And I look forward to working with the other members of the senior staff."  
  
She smiled. "As am I. Now, back to the personnel reports."  
  
He nodded. "We agree that it would be best to require all senior staff members to report for duty two weeks prior to our launch date, June 25. According to the quartermaster, by that time it will be possible for the crew to move in to their quarters. I expect to be in residence by the 15th, possibly earlier, depending upon T'Pel's schedule."  
  
"I'll be moving in around that time as well," she said. Chakotay was in favor of an early move, pointing out she was spending most of her waking hours on the ship already. "Who knows? We may be able to see more of each other, as you won't have to spend so much time commuting on top of those long days on the ship," he'd said. " You'd definitely get more rest than you currently do."  
  
Tuvok said now, "I anticipate that all of the senior officers will be settled in a full week before the launch."  
  
Janeway nodded. "Dr. Zimmerman will be available to get started on the crew physicals right away," she said, referring to the medical exams which were a routine part of the 'checking in' process for a new mission. "The rest of the medical staff will arrive a few days later." She paused. "It almost feels like a luxury to have a fully staffed sickbay for a change."  
  
"Agreed."  
  
She glanced at the helm position on the roster. "I'm sure Tom is especially happy he won't have to pull any double shifts in Sickbay anymore."  
  
"I would have questioned the wisdom of our chief pilot also serving as the back-up medic," Tuvok said reflectively, "except that we had so few other qualified individuals for the position."  
  
"That's what the first journey was all about--making do with what we had," Janeway said quietly. Those years had been so hard, but she could not deny a sense of accomplishment when she looked back. They had done it. Against all odds, they had persevered.  
  
"The medical staff will include a counselor," Tuvok reminded her. "Another 'luxury' we did not have before."  
  
Janeway made a slight face. "It's good that we'll have one," she said carefully. "God knows, we could have done with one last time."  
  
"Yes, we all could have," Tuvok said. Janeway shot him a look; she was well aware of the meaning behind his statement. She was about to say something when she noticed Tuvok's attention was focused on his PADD. She leaned over and saw he was looking at the position of Chief of Ops.  
  
"That particular assignment was dictated by HQ," she said, striving to keep her voice light. "I had no choice in the matter."  
  
"Lieutenant Auraan is a member of the Royal House of Troyius?" Tuvok asked. At Janeway's quick nod, he said, "Interesting."  
  
Janeway's lips thinned. "I just hope she's a competent officer."  
  
"It is doubtful Headquarters would 'foist' an incompetent officer on you, Captain," Tuvok pointed out. "They realize the importance of this mission."  
  
"Yes, of course," she said, hoping she sounded convincing.  
  
"I understand Mister Kim is assigned to the _Odyssey_ now," Tuvok said.  
  
Janeway smiled, this time with real warmth. "Yes, he is—and he's Lieutenant Commander Kim now. I'll miss him, but I know that Geordi will greatly benefit from having him there."  
  
Tuvok nodded. "He is a fine officer." He continued perusing the roster. "Science department—I notice there are still some vacancies that have yet to be filled, particularly in Astrometrics."  
  
"A last minute transfer caused some holes to open up," Janeway said. "However, we have a list of other qualified candidates—" she caught sight of the time and rose. "—which I will leave for your consideration. I'm sorry to cut out on you like this, Tuvok, but I've got a meeting with Daeja Thev—and Ambassador Diaza—in a few minutes. We'll have to continue this later."  
  
He rose as well. "Understood, Captain. I will see what I can do in your absence."  
  
She touched his arm lightly. "Believe me, Tuvok, I know I'm leaving everything in capable hands."   
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter written by Rocky


	19. Communication from a Father to a Son

  
***19***  
  
**Captain's Ready Room**_, Odyssey_-June 2, Stardate 57419.4  
  
The ready room was supposed to reflect something of its chief occupant, Geordi thought. Captain Picard always had an aquarium as well as some other display of personal significance, such as his first edition of Shakespeare's plays. The room had always seemed dignified and polished, much like Picard.  
  
From his tour of _Voyager_ _II_, he knew that Captain Janeway had installed special shelving to safely display a collection of china teapots, coffee carafes, cups and saucers. The shelving had a force field designed by Lt. Commander Torres that would activate automatically when the ship went to yellow alert or experienced instability outside of normal parameters. The set up managed to combine the beauty and delicacy of fine china with the strength and ingenuity of modern technology, which seemed to him a pretty good reflection of Kathryn Janeway.  
  
What did this ready room say about Captain Geordi La Forge? So far, all it said was that he was a man of little taste and less imagination. He had not added a single personal touch to the standard Starfleet furniture and color scheme. Everything was clean, efficient, and completely boring.  
  
Ah.  
  
"The problem," he muttered, "is that I'm an engineer, not a captain." He hadn't hesitated a moment when Admiral Hayes had offered him this mission, but he had second-guessed that decision every hour since. He had never served as a first officer, or even second officer, of any other ship. Skipping that step on the way to a command was rare, but not unprecedented—for small ships operating within Federation territory. What was he thinking, accepting command of a Columbia-class ship for a mission to the other side of the galaxy?  
  
The communication chime sounded on the desktop monitor, and he leaned forward to accept the call. The image of his father appeared immediately. Edward La Forge was at home, but still in uniform. "Hey," Geordi said. "Shouldn't you be asleep? It's nearly midnight in San Francisco."  
  
_"Our whales had another baby tonight."_ Edward smiled broadly. _"That's three for this pair. Now that there are over a hundred humpbacks world-wide, I think we can safely say we are well on the way to saving this species."_  
  
"Fantastic. Boy or girl?"  
  
_"A male. We're calling him Benny."_ Edward paused. _"How's it coming? Are you settled in?"  
_  
"I'm getting there." Geordi couldn't help looking around his office. "Don't tell her I said so, but I could probably use Ariana's help with a couple of things around here."  
  
Edward grinned. _"You must be desperate if you want your sister's help. What's the matter?"  
_  
"Nothing, really. Just some decorating issues." He cocked his head. "What's up, Dad? Why the midnight call?"  
  
His father's smile faded. _"Nothing important. It's just that...Geordi, did you take this assignment to look for your mother?"_  
  
For a moment, Geordi considered deflecting the question. In the end, though, he knew his father wouldn't be deflected. "It's one reason. Maybe a big reason."  
  
_"Geordi—"  
_  
"Dad, no one has ever been able to explain what happened to the _Hera_. If there's a chance it was pulled into the Delta Quadrant, just like _Voyager_—"  
  
_"Geordi. Even if that's what happened, the chances are, your mother is dead."_ Edward was obviously distressed. _"It's been eleven years."_  
  
"Yes, but the Delta Quadrant is more than 70 years away at normal warp speed."  
  
_"Captain Janeway brought her ship back in eight years. Do you think your mother less capable than she?"_  
  
"No," Geordi said, "but Captain Janeway would be the first to tell you that _Voyager_ had a lot of luck as well as skill. Maybe Mom just wasn't lucky."  
  
Edward's shoulders sagged. _"Perhaps. I just don't want you to get your hopes up, son. Finding your mother alive and well is a long shot, at best."_  
  
"I know. But I've got to try. How could we have this chance and not try?"  
  
_"Yes. Of course."_ Edward looked off to one side, his eyes no longer able to meet his son's. _"You don't happen to need an old exozoologist, do you? I wish I could go with you."_  
  
He hadn't seen his father look so forlorn since the day he had called to tell Geordi that Silva and her ship were officially missing. "Are you serious? I'd have to pull a few strings, but I think we could swing it. We launch in less than a month, Dad. Can you be ready?"  
  
_"I wasn't serious. No captain needs his father looking over his shoulder on his first command."_ Edward spoke sharply, then softened the impact with a smile. _"Have I mentioned how proud I am?"_  
  
"A few times." Geordi leaned forward. "Look, why don't you get some sleep? I'll call you before we leave."  
  
_"Yes, you will."_ It was an order, and Geordi recognized it as such, even though he technically outranked his father now. _"Oh—what's the decorating problem?"_  
  
"Nothing. I'll figure it out. Good night, Dad."  
  
_"Good night, son. Take care."_  
  
As the screen darkened, Geordi fell back against his chair. He had accepted this command because he knew it would be a huge career move, and because the chance to explore the Delta Quadrant was too enticing to pass up; but most of all, he had accepted because he believed in his heart that his mother was somewhere out there, trying to get home. No matter how realistic he tried to be, something in him simply refused to be pragmatic.  
  
The truth was, Geordi believed he would find Captain Silva La Forge and her ship in the Delta Quadrant, and no one and nothing would ever shake that belief. Fortunately, Leah understood and was willing to wait while he spent a year or two searching.  
  
Then his gaze fell upon the blank wall above the sofa, and suddenly he remembered. As a birthday present a few years ago, Data had painted a triptych that captured the bridge of the Enterprise the way Geordi used to perceive it through his VISOR. Anyone else might mistake it for an abstract piece of conceptual art, nothing more than seemingly random swathes of color, but Geordi had recognized it immediately. He had no idea how Data had captured the image, but then, he was always amazed by the things Data came up with.  
  
"Yeah," Geordi said slowly. "It works."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter written by Penny


	20. Unimpressed?

  
***20***  
  
**_Odyssey_-June 10, Stardate 57440.9**  
  
"And this is the Bridge. I'm sure it's as familiar to you as everything else has been."  
  
Harry sighed inwardly at the curt tone in Sam Lavelle's voice as they stepped onto the bridge. Commander Lavelle was the first officer on _Odyssey_—and as such was Harry's superior officer—but so far, their first meeting hadn't gone well. From the start of the ship's tour and orientation, Lavelle had seemed impatient, even unfriendly. Harry couldn't figure out why, other than the fact that _Odyssey_'s layout was familiar to him, given that the new Columbia class ship was closely modeled after the old Intrepid class ships. He would have expected Lavelle to appreciate not having to go into detail, but the first officer seemed to take Harry's prior knowledge as some sort of affront.  
  
"The Ops station," Lavelle said, moving to the left of the turbolift. The layout of that station was also familiar, though Harry elected not to mention it this time. "Navigation, Helm, Sciences, Tactical, Weapons, Engineering." Lavelle haphazardly waved a hand around the bridge. "And the Command station. That concludes the tour."  
  
Harry didn't miss the dismissal in the first officer's tone as he touched the Ops controls, tracing the remembered pattern. The Ops panel on _Enterprise_ had a very different configuration, and to Harry's mind, it was slightly less efficient than this one. There were also several subtle differences from his old station on _Voyager_ that he would enjoy exploring later. In the meantime, even if Sam Lavelle was less than cordial, Harry couldn't discard the good manners he'd internalized from his mother. "Thank you for the tour, sir."  
  
"Don't forget to check in with Doctor Ogawa next for your physical," Lavelle said as he turned away, clearly in a hurry to leave. "Good day, Lieutenant Commander."  
  
Not that Harry had expected a "you're welcome," but there it was again. Though he was technically a lieutenant commander, that was a rank address very few used in Starfleet, generally shortening the title to "Commander." Yet this was the second time the first officer had addressed him as "Lieutenant Commander." And both times, there had been a slight edge of disdain in his tone. Harry was sure of it.  
  
"Commander Lavelle."  
  
Lavelle stopped halfway to the lift and turned. "Yes?"  
  
"Do you have a problem with me?"  
  
Lavelle's eyebrows rose. "Why would you think that, Lieutenant Commander?"  
  
_Gee, I don't know. Maybe the pointed rank address, or your frosty attitude, or that slight curl in your lip right now—_Harry clamped down that insubordinate line of thought and said, "I get the feeling you don't like me, though we don't know each other."  
  
Lavelle smiled thinly. "That's not precisely true. I certainly know _of_ you. It would be difficult not to."  
  
Harry sighed. That again. He wondered if the notoriety would ever completely fade away. He tried for a light response. "Don't believe everything you read."  
  
"Oh, I don't, believe me."  
  
Harry frowned at the sarcasm in Lavelle's voice. Great. He'd been onboard less than half an hour and he'd already made an enemy of the first officer. It wasn't like he'd asked for the barrage of publicity _Voyager_'s return had engendered. "I've never paid much attention to that stuff anyway. We were all just doing our jobs, the same as any other Starfleet officer would."  
  
"I see," Lavelle said. "But you're not really like any other Starfleet officer, are you? You were made a senior officer even though you were a raw recruit, barely out of the Academy. My understanding is that Captain Janeway was forced to put people in pivotal positions, whether they were ready for the responsibility or not."  
  
"She had some choice," Harry said, feeling more irritated by the minute. She'd also expected the same degree of competence that she would have expected from a more experienced crew. "Maybe I was raw, but she thought I was the best person for the job when she selected me as chief of Ops, at the very beginning of _Voyager's_ maiden voyage. I believe I proved her right, sir."  
  
"Is that why you were an ensign for nearly seven years?"  
  
Harry was momentarily rendered speechless. Though he'd understood the lack of necessity for regular promotions on a ship so distant from home and Starfleet, he had worried that his long standing as an ensign might hurt his career once he returned to the Alpha quadrant. Instead it had been a complete non-issue on _Enterprise_, as it had been with Captain La Forge. No one in Starfleet had even mentioned it—until now. "If you look at _Voyager_'s records, you'll find that Captain Janeway handed out very few promotions. Given our situation, there was no need—"  
  
"I wasn't asking for an explanation," Lavelle said, cutting off Harry's heated reply. "I'm not disputing that your eventual promotion to lieutenant was probably earned."  
  
Eventual? _Probably_ earned?? Fuming, Harry opened his mouth to respond, but Lavelle continued. "However, your recent promotion to lieutenant commander after less than two years at lieutenant's rank, part of that time interrupted by a substantial leave upon your return to Earth, was premature by comparison. One could certainly wonder if it was attributable at least in part to the elevated status you were granted as part of _Voyager_'s crew."  
  
"Are you saying that's how _you_ attribute it, sir?" Harry asked, not waiting for an answer. "If so, you're wrong. And you are also doing Captain La Forge a disservice if you think he would choose me to head Ops based on a lot of distorted publicity. He chose me because of my ability, period."  
  
Lavelle's expression remained skeptical. "If that's the case, then I assume you will prove that ability, to both of us."  
  
"Don't worry, I will. Now, if you'll excuse me, sir, I have an appointment in Sickbay." Harry didn't wait to be dismissed again. He strode to the lift, hoping the first officer wouldn't follow. He could still feel Lavelle's gaze on him as the doors closed behind him.  
  
"Sickbay."  
  
Harry leaned against the railing and took a deep breath as the lift began to move. It was hard to believe the man he'd just met could be the same Sam Lavelle several officers on _Enterprise_ had spoken of as charming and affable, with a wicked sense of humor. He'd expected someone like Tom, or maybe Will Riker, whom he'd met during a joint ship mission several months ago. Lavelle couldn't be any less charming or affable if he'd tried. As for a sense of humor...forget it.  
  
The lift stopped, and Harry straightened as the door opened. Before he could exit, an officer stepped hurriedly into the lift, a redhead with a curvaceous build and lieutenant commander pips on her sleeve. Her mouth dropped open at the sight of him. Harry was equally startled. Although he knew Jenny Delaney was assigned to _Odyssey_, he hadn't expected to run into her so soon. A moment later, he was practically slammed into the railing by her enthusiastic embrace.  
  
"Harry, it's great to see you again!" Jenny said, releasing him as quickly as she'd grabbed him.  
  
"Uh, you too," Harry said, readjusting his uniform.  
  
Jenny laughed. "I'm sorry. I hope I didn't break any ribs. It's just so nice to see a familiar, friendly face."  
  
Harry grinned back. "I'm all in one piece. And the feeling's mutual. Did you just get here?"  
  
"I've been here a couple of hours. I had the tour, unpacked a little, and I just had my physical. Now I'm on my way to meet Captain La Forge in Astrometrics."  
  
Harry had met Geordi La Forge several days earlier, and he'd been impressed by the captain's graciousness and geniality, as well as his reputation as a brilliant engineer. "I'm looking forward to working for our new captain."  
  
Jenny nodded. "So am I. He's very likable." She made a face. "Though I can't say the same for the first officer."  
  
Harry shook his head. "I guess he was as friendly to you as he was to me."  
  
"He wasn't friendly at all. He said he hoped I would prove to be a good officer, as if he doubted it! I certainly wasted my considerable charms on him."  
  
Harry grinned. Sam Lavelle must have a really cold heart not to respond to Jenny's gregarious personality. "Don't worry. It wasn't you."  
  
Jenny sighed. "Good. I was hoping he was surly to everybody, not just to me."  
  
"He's surly to everybody who served on _Voyager_ anyway," Harry said. Fortunately for the rest of the crew, that only meant Jenny and himself.  
  
Jenny looked perplexed. "What?"  
  
"He made a couple of pointed comments. I get the feeling he doesn't hold _Voyager_ or any of its crew in very high regard."  
  
"Then what's he doing on this mission with _Voyager__ II_? Doesn't he know it's being commanded by Captain Janeway, and a couple dozen original crewmembers have signed back on? And that we're going back to the Delta quadrant?"  
  
Harry shrugged. Lavelle obviously did know those facts. Harry had no idea why the man wanted to go to the Delta Quadrant. And he didn't really care.  
  
"Why do some people think we had it so easy on _Voyager_ anyway? I'd like to have switched places with some of them when we were fighting the Kazon, or being invaded by the Hirogen, or facing down the Borg."  
  
Harry agreed with Jenny's irate assessment. "I guess they weren't having much fun here either," he said. Which still wasn't a reason why anyone would think _Voyager_'s crew had been on some sort of pleasure cruise. They might not have been fighting a war, but they'd certainly been in their share of battles. "I'm not going to worry about it though. I'm glad to be here. I don't plan on letting Commander Lavelle's attitude spoil it for me."  
  
Jenny smiled. "Neither do I."  
  
The lift door was still wide open, and Harry realized Jenny must have hit the hold button before she'd hugged the life out of him. "I should get to Sickbay before I'm late for my appointment and our first officer hears about it."  
  
Jenny smirked. "Okay. By the way, you'll like Doctor Ogawa. Her bedside manner is much more pleasant than the Doctor's—Doctor Zimmerman's, that is. And she assured me she doesn't know how to sing opera, which is a relief."  
  
Harry chuckled as he stepped out of the lift. "Hey," Jenny said, and he turned back to face her. "How about dinner in the Mess Hall tonight? We can really catch up on what's been going on in each other's lives."  
  
Harry liked that idea. "Sounds great. You can tell me about Command School. And I'd love to hear how Megan is doing."  
  
Jenny's expression softened. "I can tell you her new career is going well, and she's deeply in love with a man who adores her. They decided to put off the wedding until the end of the year because of Rick's residency. I'm sorry I'll miss it, but I told Megan she should wait and do it right. Besides, I'll be there in spirit."  
  
Harry had heard about the engagement, and he was very glad Megan had found someone who was right for her. "I'm sure she'll send lots of pictures in the datastream. I guess it will be strange for you not having her here."  
  
"It'll be the first time we'll be so far apart." Jenny looked wistful for a moment, then she pasted a bright smile on her face. "But it's time we started living our own lives, don't you think?"  
  
"She's going to be jealous once she hears about your new adventures in the Delta quadrant," Harry teased. "So, eighteen hundred hours in the mess hall?"  
  
Jenny nodded, then winked. "See you then, Commander Kim."  
  
Harry watched the lift close, then strode toward Sickbay. He was really happy to have Jenny as a crewmate again. She'd once had a romantic interest in him, something that had intimidated him at the time, given his youth and her assertive nature, but that time had long passed. Since then, they'd both gone through a lot of changes. The one-time awkwardness between them had given way to an easy friendship. Sam Lavelle aside, he expected to make more than a few friends on _Odyssey_, but he valued having an old friend here who had shared so many of his experiences. He'd missed Jenny's cheerful nature and sunny outlook, more than he'd realized.  
  
"Excuse me, sir."  
  
Harry quickly sidestepped the young ensign who'd burst out of the main Sickbay at a near jog. "It wasn't that bad, was it?"  
  
The ensign flushed at Harry's facetious question. "Uh, no. It was fine, but I had to wait awhile. I don't want to be late to the first engineering staff meeting. I hear Lieutenant James is very strict about punctuality."  
  
"I haven't met him yet, Ensign..."  
  
"Hector," the young man supplied quickly.  
  
"Commander Kim," Harry said, introducing himself. "I'm sure Lieutenant James will make allowances for unanticipated delays while we're still in dry-dock."  
  
Ensign Hector looked marginally optimistic. "I hope so, sir."  
  
"Carry on then. And good to meet you, Ensign."  
  
"Yes, sir, you too, sir."  
  
Harry grinned as the ensign fled toward the lift. He walked into sickbay and was almost immediately greeted by a petite dark-haired woman in a lab coat. She gave him a warm, welcoming smile and held out a hand. "I'm Doctor Alyssa Ogawa. And you must be our new Ops officer."  
  
Harry smiled back and shook her hand. Despite her small bones, her grip was strong. "Lieutenant Commander Harry Kim. It's good to meet you."  
  
"Well, Harry Kim, you look very fit and healthy, but we'll go through the motions anyway." Doctor Ogawa motioned toward one of the biobeds. "Have a seat. I understand you came most recently from _Enterprise_. I served on that ship for a time myself. So did Sam Lavelle. I assume you've met Sam?"  
  
"Yes, ma'am. He just gave me the orientation tour."  
  
If Alyssa Ogawa heard the coolness in Harry's voice she didn't let on. "_Enterprise_ was a great ship, with a wonderful crew. But I must confess, I'm very happy to be serving on _Odyssey_ now. I'm sure there will be a few bumps here and there, but from what I've seen we have an able crew. And I think this trip to the Delta quadrant is going to be a fascinating experience."  
  
Despite at least one bump, Harry couldn't agree more.  
  
"You have a leg up on the rest of us though," Ogawa said as she picked up a medical scanner. "I've read most of the briefings on _Voyager_'s original journey to prepare myself, but I'd love to hear everything you know about the Delta Quadrant."  
  
"Everything?" Harry's lips twitched. "Got a few months?"  
  
Ogawa grinned. "In fact we have, Commander." She moved the scanner over him, and Harry decided he already liked her as she repeated with the satisfaction of someone very content with that prospect, "In fact we have."  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter written by Julie


	21. Introduction to Shipboard Life

  
***21***  
  
**_Voyager_ _II_-June 10, Stardate 57441.7**  
  
"Hi, I'm Marie Stevens," Marie said, as she looked around the compact crew quarters to which she'd been assigned. She was relieved to see her gear neatly stacked in the corner by the empty bed.  
  
The other woman looked up from her unpacking and extended her hand for Marie to shake. " Ensign Damaris Foster. Welcome to _Voyager_. Have you been thoroughly poked and prodded yet?"  
  
Marie carefully placed her wooden box on top of the small chest. "Yes, _very_ thoroughly. I knew that checking in required a _complete_ physical, DNA scans and listening to a boring recitation of the rules and regulations, but...please tell me that before our first shore leave, the CMO won't deliver a health lecture as well?" She threw her duffel bag on the bed with a little too much force, and clothing spilled out onto the floor. She knelt to gather them up quickly.  
  
Damaris smiled warmly and helped Marie pick up clothes from the deck. "This must be your first deep space assignment. To answer your question, yes, the Doc lectures about the possibility of contracting alien diseases before every away mission, too. I remember on the first _Voyager,_ his lecture was over an hour. This time, I have no doubt he'll drone on even longer. He knows more now. What's your field?"  
  
"Biosciences," Marie said. She didn't need to ask Damaris the same question, as the yellow trim on her uniform indicated that she was in Operations. "Actually, my specialty is virology." She tossed her wayward clothes back on the bed and started folding.  
  
"Have you met Dr. Zimmerman yet? He's our CMO."  
  
"The hologram? Not yet. One of the other doctors checked me in." Marie had been surprised to learn that a hologram had been assigned as CMO. She'd read several of his publications after learning of her assignment to _Voyager_, though, and had to admit he definitely had a solid understanding of some rather exotic sounding viruses.  
  
"He's more than a hologram," Damaris corrected. "He's a bloody genius. Just don't tell him I said that. His ego's big enough already."  
  
"I hear he's been nominated for the Phlox Award."  
  
Damaris rolled her eyes. " 'For major contributions to the areas of medical and biological knowledge, awarded every ten years,' as he likes to keep telling us." Damaris tossed her own empty duffel bag into the closet. "Have you had lunch yet? I was thinking of trying out the replicators in the Mess Hall." She laughed, half to herself. "Though of course, it won't feel like _Voyager_ without Neelix in the kitchen."  
  
"Neelix?" Marie asked, puzzled.  
  
"Ambassador Neelix of Talaxia. He came back with us on the original _Voyager_. He's a real sweetheart. He did so much for us on that trip, acting as our guide, ambassador, cook, morale officer. He and his wife will be on this mission as well, but they're aboard the _Pioneer_."  
  
"What was the Delta Quadrant like?" Marie asked eagerly.  
  
"Not so different from here," Damaris replied. "Like any starship assignment, there were long periods of routine punctuated by moments of terror. At least the Borg won't be a consideration this time--I hope." She must have caught the alarmed look in Marie's eyes, because she added, "Relax. This time we won't be a lone ship. There's strength in numbers."  
  
Marie nodded and tried to smile.  
  
"Would you like to get something to eat now? We could stop by Sickbay or the labs on our way. You'll have a chance to meet the Doctor. I'm sure he'd love to talk Virology with you."  
  
"Doctor Zimmerman?" Marie hesitated. "Not right now. I'd rather eat first." She added, "I'm still not sure what I ate this morning—and that was a long time ago."  
  
"Food it is," Damaris agreed.   
  
As they exited their quarters and walked slowly toward the turbolift at the end of the corridor, Marie stared around her in fascination. It was finally sinking in that she was actually on board _Voyager_. Maybe this wasn't the grand original, which had traveled all the way back from the Delta Quadrant, but it _was_ its namesake. And they were heading back to the same quadrant. She realized she was looking forward to the trip, as well as to serving with the fabled Captain Janeway.   
  
As they walked into the Mess Hall, many of her new crewmates waved and addressed her roommate using some variation of, "Great to see you again, ENSIGN Foster."   
  
When they sat down at a table with their meals, Marie remarked, "Why is everyone emphasizing your rank, Damaris?"

"Oh, that's because on the original _Voyager,_ I was a crewman. Security and Tactical. The whole time we were traveling through the Delta Quadrant, I kept telling everyone I was sick of Starfleet and I was going to resign as soon as we got home. But we weren't back home a month before I realized how much I missed...this. Being part of a crew. We became a family out there, you see." She spread out her arms like she wanted to hug everyone in the Mess Hall. "What I didn't know at the time was that Captain Janeway and Commander Tuvok had already recommended that I should be considered for a commission. Naturally, I had to go to Officer's Candidate School to qualify, but since they counted my experience on _Voyager_, my program was accelerated. So, here I am. Sometimes I pinch myself because it's almost unbelievable. _Almost_," she added with a grin.  
  
"I'm very glad you're here, too. You know, I think I'm going to like it here."

Damaris was very entertaining and shared several anecdotes concerning events which had not become known to anyone other than _Voyager's_ original crew. By the time Marie returned to her new quarters to unpack, she'd said a silent thank you to her mentor, Victoria Samuels. The vocal coach had encouraged her pupil to accept this assignment, and Marie had to admit she'd been right. Before she could make an intelligent decision about whether to do as her family wished and remain in Starfleet, or if she should go her own way and express herself through a musical career, Marie needed to experience life on a starship. And what better place could there be for her to experience that life than here, on a ship bearing the name of _Voyager?_  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter written by Christina


	22. Feels Like Home

  
***22***  
  
**_Voyager_ _II_-June 11, Stardate 57443.9**  
  
B'Elanna's first impression as they entered their new quarters was its size. It was big, definitely larger than their quarters on the original _Voyager_.  
  
"Looks like we'll have plenty of room," Tom said, mirroring her thoughts. He set his wriggling daughter down, keeping one of her hands in his. "And I see it's the same old Starfleet dynamic color scheme—beige and grey on white."  
  
"We can add our own touches," B'Elanna said, as she set the duffel containing their overnight things on the floor. It would probably take several days to get all their stuff moved in. She shook her head at the thought. They definitely had too much stuff.  
  
"We live here?" Miral asked as she looked around curiously.  
  
"Yep, this is our new home, Pumpkin," Tom answered. "And that must be _our_ bedroom," he whispered to B'Elanna, pointing to the left of the main living area. A large bed was just visible through the open doorway. Miral was two and a half now, and the days of her crib being in the same room as her parents' bed had definitely passed.  
  
Tom walked past the dining table toward the couch. It fronted a wide window with a view of space, which was mostly of Utopia Planitia's outer docking ring at the moment. "Look, Miral." He pointed beyond the shelf-lined interior wall that partially separated the dining area from the sitting area. "I think this is your bed."  
  
When B'Elanna joined them, she saw that the small alcove off the sitting area was furnished with a single bed and chest of drawers. A smaller window framed the stars.  
  
"I see the stars!"  
  
Tom grinned. "There's nothing like seeing the stars from your bed. You can wish on them every night."  
  
"Yay!" Miral shouted, familiar now with many of Earth's children's stories and fairy tales. With that she pulled away from her father, and a moment later she was bouncing happily on the bed.  
  
B'Elanna smiled and turned to give the dining area a closer inspection. The built-in cupboard contained plenty of space, but more importantly, a full service replicator was sitting right next to it.  
  
"I can put my toaster right here." Tom came up behind her and patted the countertop.  
  
B'Elanna looked at him. "You think you could ever live without that toaster, Tom?"  
  
Tom looked horrified. "And give up toast with peanut butter for breakfast? No way!"  
  
B'Elanna grinned. She enjoyed baiting him, since he always rose to the occasion. "I think I forgot to pack it."  
  
"I packed it, and I know exactly where it is."  
  
"Damn." B'Elanna with mock frustration, and Tom smiled triumphantly. She had to admit that toast from the toaster had a crisp texture and taste that one couldn't get from a replicator. She understood why Captain Janeway had stocked her quarters with a coffee grinder and several kilos of coffee beans before she'd even unpacked her clothes. That was the rumor, anyway.  
  
"Miral."  
  
Miral had abandoned her bed, and was running through the living area. Though she stopped when her father said her name, there was a flash of rebellion in her eyes and a mutinous set to her lips. "Don't run," she said before her father could speak, no doubt remembering her mother's admonition a short time earlier in engineering.  
  
Tom looked thoughtful for a moment, then shrugged. "You can't run on most of the ship, but these quarters are your home. Run all you want."  
  
Miral's face lit up and a moment later she was running again, zigzagging across the room, skirting around the furniture.  
  
"Tom..."  
  
"It is her home now. And we'll childproof where we need to."  
  
They'd had plenty of experience with that already. Miral ran around the coffee table, missing the sharp edge by mere millimeters, and B'Elanna frowned. "We can't childproof everything."  
  
"Nope," Tom agreed. "But she's a kid. She's going to get a few bruises."  
  
She already had. Though B'Elanna rarely considered her own safety, her daughter was a different matter. Still, she knew bumps and scrapes came with the territory of childhood, and Miral barely seemed to notice them. She watched her daughter duck under the window shelf, this time nearly banging her skull. "I guess it's good that she has your hard head."  
  
"_My_ hard head?" Tom asked incredulously.  
  
"_I_ don't have a hard head." B'Elanna ignored Tom's snort and moved toward the bedroom. She noted the large closet and built-in chest of drawers, and glanced into the bathroom, which had all the necessary amenities. They would be more than comfortable here, and she knew that was by design. For a former Maquis and a former convict, they'd become highly valued officers in Starfleet. Sometimes that still astonished her.  
  
Tom walked into the bedroom with Miral right behind him. He dropped the duffel on the bed as Miral sped around the room, inspecting every corner. Then she ran past her mother into the bathroom, and immediately turned on the water in the sink.  
  
"Miral, don't play with the water."  
  
"Washing my hands," Miral said enthusiastically, as if it wasn't something her parents usually had to force her to do.  
  
B'Elanna rolled her eyes, but let her daughter proceed. She looked back at Tom, who had taken something out of the duffel and was placing it on one of the nightstands. "Tom, is that..."  
  
"I figured we could start putting a few personal items in place." He grinned at her. "Unfortunately, the bat'leth wouldn't fit in the duffel."  
  
B'Elanna stared at the holographic image displayed in the ornate frame. She still had a hard time believing her father had hung onto it for so long.  
  
"It really was nice of your dad to bring this to the party."  
  
B'Elanna had been glad to see her father at the goodbye party Tom's parents had hosted, although she hadn't expected him to come. Or maybe she hadn't let herself expect him. She still wasn't used to counting on him, even though he'd made every effort to involve himself in her life during the past eighteen months. But it was the gift her father had given her that had most surprised—and moved—her.  
  
"How's that?" Tom asked, adjusting the frame on the nightstand.  
  
B'Elanna stared at the holo of her mother. It had been taken when Miral had been several years younger than B'Elanna was now. Miral looked youthful and vibrant. The strong, sharp lines of her face gave her a fierce beauty, while her dark eyes glittered with a mixture of humor and satisfaction. It was a look B'Elanna had rarely seen in her mother's eyes after her parents' marriage had ended. Her father told her he'd kept this picture because even though the marriage hadn't worked, he'd never forgotten Miral. He'd never stopped caring about her. But now he thought B'Elanna should have her mother come with her and insisted she take the picture he'd kept for so long.  
  
B'Elanna wondered if her father had somehow found out that she'd kept no pictures of her mother after their acrimonious parting. Certainly he couldn't know that her impulsive act of rejection had become a source of immense regret over the years. Or maybe he could, since he'd experienced numerous regrets of his own. Though her uncle had given her several pictures of her mother when B'Elanna and her family visited Qo'noS, this picture had become very special to her. It was a tie not only to her mother, but to her father as well.  
  
"B'Elanna?"  
  
Tom was watching her closely. She smiled and said, "It's perfect."  
  
"Good. We'll make room for the rest later."  
  
Miral brushed past her mother's legs, her hands still wet from the sink. "That's _my_ gramma." She gave her grandmother Miral that special designation because they shared the same name. "Where's Gramma 'Licia? And Pop Pop Owen, and Papa John, and Uncle Icheb, and Aunt—"  
  
"We still have to unpack those pictures," B'Elanna said, before Miral could name her entire extended family of aunts, uncles and cousins on both sides. Over the past year and a half, they'd amassed a collection of holos of Tom's parents; his sisters and their families; her uncle and cousins on Qo'noS; as well as her uncle and cousins on her father's side. And Tom had taken a holo of her father at the party. Along with the holos of Miral from babyhood through toddlerhood, and the old holos of their _family_ from the original _Voyager_, she wasn't sure where they were going to put them all. While she'd sometimes felt the need to impose some private time, it gave her a warm feeling knowing that so many people had become family to her.  
  
Tom reached down and scooped his daughter into his arms. "Tell you what, sweetheart. Tomorrow, after mommy and I finish working, we'll move our box of pictures up here and fill every shelf and tabletop with them. But right now, how about we go to the Mess Hall and see what everyone's eating for dinner."  
  
Miral wriggled against Tom's embrace, her arms reaching toward the duffel. "Toby come!"  
  
Tom pulled the stuffed targ out of the duffel. Though Miral had dozens of stuffed animals—most now headed to storage—B'Elanna's old, much-mended friend Toby had become her favorite companion.  
  
"Why don't we let Toby stay here and get used to his new home?" B'Elanna suggested.  
  
"Besides, Toby only likes replicated food," Tom reminded her. "We'll put him by the replicator so he can fix something, as long as he cleans up."  
  
"He does!" Miral said gleefully, handing Toby over to her mother.  
  
He always did, because Toby invariably "ate" while Miral was away or asleep, and left not a crumb behind. Tom grinned at B'Elanna, and she settled Toby carefully on the counter as they left.  
  
Five minutes later they walked into the Mess Hall. It was an almost exact replica of the original _Voyager's,_ and despite the fact that nearly half the crew hadn't yet checked in, most of the tables were occupied. Gerry Culhane and Delia O'Brien waved from one table, and Tom returned their gesture. At another table, Vorik was sitting with his bondmate Silvara, a member of the exobotany team, and with Tuvok and T'Pel. Once Vorik caught B'Elanna's eye, he gave her a polite Vulcan nod before returning to his conversation with the first officer.  
  
"Neelix!"  
  
Tom's greeting pulled B'Elanna's attention to the kitchen. Neelix stood behind the counter, framed by several steaming pots on the stove behind him as he chatted with Sarexa. Sarexa greeted them warmly as they approached.  
  
"Good evening, Tom, B'Elanna, and Miral."  
  
"Welcome, Paris-Torres family," Neelix added, a broad smile on his face.  
  
"Neelix!" After repeating her father's enthusiastic greeting, Miral held out her arms and Neelix leaned forward so she could hug him around the neck. Then she demanded to hug Sarexa, too.  
  
"Neelix, what are you doing here?" B'Elanna asked. The last she'd heard, he'd been assigned to _Pioneer_ with the other ambassadors. And in accordance to standard starship operations, there was no full time cook assigned to _Voyager_ II. That position on the original _Voyager_—created for and by Neelix—had been a result of the very irregular circumstances.  
  
"You've been transferred to _Voyager_?" Tom guessed before Neelix could speak.  
  
Neelix shook his head. "No. Sarexa and I will be traveling on _Pioneer_. But Captain Janeway gave us the official tour this afternoon. She suggested I might want to cook dinner tonight for old time's sake."  
  
"I seem to recall you made the suggestion," Sarexa said dryly.  
  
Neelix grinned. "But the captain did immediately accept my offer, Sweeting."  
  
Sarexa smiled back. "That's true. She has a soft spot for you."  
  
"The captain also assigned us guest quarters for the night, so we can explore more of the ship ourselves later," Neelix told B'Elanna and Tom.  
  
"It's a beautiful ship, isn't it, Miral," Tom said, glancing at his daughter, who nodded her head furiously in agreement. "And we're thrilled you're here, Neelix. What's on the menu tonight?"  
  
"Kavulian stew, Rynax flatbread, and leola root casserole," Neelix replied proudly.  
  
"Umm! I'm looking forward to it. We've really missed your cooking."  
  
B'Elanna smiled at Tom's enthusiastic response and silently echoed his sentiment. She couldn't say she loved Neelix's cooking, but she had grown used it during their eight years in the Delta Quadrant. And she'd actually missed it. Or maybe it was less the cooking than the cook. Whatever Neelix served, he always served it with genuine warmth, a cheerful outlook, and surprisingly astute observations, all of which had helped her deal with more than one crisis. She regretted that he was only here for a visit.  
  
"We've missed _you_ Neelix," she said. She smiled at Sarexa. "I wish we could have seen both of you more often on Earth."  
  
"As do I," Neelix said. "But _Pioneer_ and _Voyager_ will be traveling the same route on this journey, and Captain Janeway has graciously given us an open invitation to visit _Voyager_ as often as we like."  
  
"That's great, Neelix," Tom said. "Maybe you can even be our guest chef on occasion."  
  
"With pleasure, if Captain Janeway is agreeable," Neelix said, beaming. "I enjoy the challenges of my ambassadorial position, but I must admit, cooking is my first love. I find it gives me a wonderful sense of relaxation."  
  
"Neelix."  
  
"Oh." Neelix heeded Sarexa's warning tone and rushed over to the stove to remove a pot just before it boiled over. He sniffed at the contents and nodded. "I've also taken it upon myself to leave a copy of my bestseller, _'Delta Quadrant Recipes by Neelix,'_ here for the crew's perusal," he said as he placed the pot on a serving pad. "Of course, many of my recipes call for very precise measurements and exact cooking times. In the hands of a novice the dishes can turn out a little...peculiar."  
  
"Maybe Miral and I will try out one or two of your recipes," Tom said, giving B'Elanna a mischievous grin as Miral clapped her hands in anticipation.  
  
B'Elanna gave him a look that let him know that was not going to happen in this lifetime. Besides, she didn't really want to imagine Neelix's dishes any more peculiar than they already were. "You'd better stick to pizza, Flyboy."  
  
"Not to worry," Neelix interjected. "I downloaded all the recipes into the replicator database so you can treat yourself to one of my gourmet creations any time." He smiled at Miral. "Would you like to help me fix your plates?"  
  
"Yes!" Miral responded eagerly as Neelix lifted her over the counter and gave her a small pair of kitchen mitts to wear (they looked a lot like the mitts Naomi had once worn as Neelix's "special helper"). He held Miral's small hand in his own and guided the ladle from the steaming pots to the plates, careful to keep the hot food from spilling.  
  
As Neelix and Miral heaped food onto the three plates, B'Elanna glanced around the room. It was filled with faces—some familiar, some new, some animated, some solemn—along with the sound of dishes clinking together, the murmur of lively conversation, and occasional bursts of laughter. Permeating it all was a sense not only of unified purpose, but also of cheerful camaraderie.  
  
"It just seems so right."  
  
Tom glanced at her. "What?"  
  
B'Elanna had been talking to herself, but she'd obviously spoken loud enough for Tom to hear. "This. The mess hall, Neelix, everyone here together eating dinner...all of it. It feels...right."  
  
She didn't know exactly how to put it in better words, but Tom smiled as if he understood completely. "You mean it feels like home?"  
  
That was it. She'd called a lot of places home, and some of them, especially recently, had been good places. But here...in a mess hall on a starship named _Voyager_—she realized of all the places she'd been, it still felt the most like home.  
  
As she took Miral so Neelix could finish serving their food, she answered Tom's question in a soft, gratified voice. "Exactly."  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter written by Julie


	23. Foot in Mouth Disorder

***23***  
  
**_Voyager_ _II_-June 11, Stardate 57444.5 **   
  
The CMO of _Voyager_ II snapped the microfiber cloth to its fullest capacity and with the utmost care, began wiping down the exposed surfaces of Sickbay. The maintenance crew had finished, leaving the shiny new area as clean as specs required, but Dr. Mark Lewis Zimmerman wanted more. He wanted everything to gleam.  
  
After all, he thought, he was personally responsible for many of the innovations surrounding him. The fruits of a year's worth of labor were fully realized. With a flourish, he bent over the console controlling the enhanced holographic diagnostic modeling array and rubbed what had looked to be a partial fingerprint marring the transparent protective topcoat.  
  
At the sound of the doors opening behind him, he turned. A young ensign he didn't recognize walked in. She was blonde and quite pretty, he thought, as he smiled at her. "Good morning," he said. "I'm Dr. Zimmerman. How can I help you?"  
  
"Oh." Her eyes grew large, and she looked around Sickbay. "I, uh, I heard the new doctor had come on board."  
  
"So Commander Tuvok tells me, but he hasn't arrived in Sickbay yet." He smiled reassuringly. "I'm the CMO. May I help you?"  
  
"Uh, no. No thank you. Sir." She began edging backwards. "I'll just come back later."  
  
"Ensign," he said. The situation was beginning to have a feeling of déjà vu; this had happened many times in the past year. He made a point of keeping his tone friendly and family-doctor-y. "What's your name?"  
  
"Mindy, um, Melinda—really, I'm sorry to bother you." Her tiny backwards slides became full steps. "Thank you, sir, thank..."  
  
As the doors whooshed open behind her, she turned and promptly bounced off the chest of a man in a sciences tunic trying to enter. "Oh," she squeaked. "Sorry, sir. I didn't—I was—I—" Abandoning any attempt at explanation, she simply fled.  
  
Mark was so intent on watching her leave that he didn't realize he was still holding the dust cloth. The young man pulled him back to the moment when he said, "She was sure in a hurry."  
  
"Yes." Ensign Mindy was another in a veritable parade of biological persons with misgivings, if not prejudices, about medical holograms. At least she hadn't been outright rude. Earlier in the day, a rather burly crewman from Security had refused to let Mark conduct his mandatory physical exam. He said he would wait for the 'real' doctor. Mark planned to wait three days, order him to Sickbay, and show him how real a Digital Rectal Exam from a hologram could be.  
  
Then he realized the younger man was waiting for him to say something else, and belatedly, recognized him. His obviously mixed ethnic ancestry gave him an unusual appearance, with brown hair, dark skin, and bright green eyes. Even if Mark hadn't been reviewing the personnel dossier of his new associate only an hour earlier, he would have guessed that this was the new doctor. "Hello," he said, switching the dust cloth to his left hand as he extended his right hand for a handshake. "You must be Dr. Brown."  
  
"That's right, Commander," Dr. Brown said, but he was clearly distracted by the quality of the equipment surrounding him. His head swiveled from side to side, trying to take it all in. "Wow. Look at this. It's better than anything we had at Benecia."  
  
"It's the cutting edge for starships," Mark said, trying to subdue the pride in his voice. Dr. Brown had just spent two years as a resident at the medical facility on Benecia, widely regarded as one of the finest medical facilities in all the Federation. If the young man was trying to curry favor with his new boss, he was off to a good start.  
  
"It's the cutting edge for any place." He came over and looked at the panel Mark had been working on. "Is that a diagnostic array? It's the most complex I've ever seen."  
  
"Yes, it's complex, but it's simple to use." Smiling, Mark reached down and touched a control. Immediately, a life size hologram of a human skeleton materialized a half a meter in front of them. "With just a few simple commands, we project any aspect of the patient's physiology, or the physiology of any of the species in our data bases, right down to the DNA levels."  
  
"Amazing." The young man's green eyes were shining with enthusiasm. "And that trauma unit..."  
  
"Yes. One of the byproducts of the Dominion War, I'm afraid. We learned a great deal about the most efficient treatment of multiple casualties." It wasn't one of the enhancements he had designed. "Here, let me show you this innovation."  
  
He led the young man over to one of the biobeds, activated the display panel above the bed, and waited for a reaction.  
  
It took two seconds, but then Dr. Brown blinked twice. "The data readouts--they've been redesigned."  
  
"Exactly." Mark beamed at him. "Much easier to read, don't you think? And better organized."  
  
Brown shook his head as he continued to walk about and study every panel and display. "You design guys did a great job, Commander. I can't believe someone actually passed on a chance to work here."  
  
Mark stiffened. "Apparently, at least two of them had a problem reporting to a holographic life form."  
  
"Well, you have to admit, it is kind of weird. Sentient or not, there's something disquieting about taking orders from something that was programmed, not born." Brown turned to him, his face pleasant enough. "Have you met him yet? Is he like a real person?"  
  
For the first time in a long time, Mark found himself at a loss for words. Obviously, Dr. Brown had no idea with whom he was speaking. He stared at the young man who was so oblivious to his blunder. "Yes," he finally said. "I've always found him to be quite 'real.' "  
  
The doors opened again, and Tom Paris came in, holding Miral's hand. The little girl's mouth was set in an exaggerated frown, a sure sign that she was unhappy. As soon as she saw Mark, though, she smiled. "Doc!" she shouted. Breaking away from Tom, she ran to Mark and lifted her arms to be picked up. As he did, he noticed that Dr. Brown was looking at him intently.  
  
"We're getting settled in to our quarters," Tom said quietly, "and although it was fine yesterday, today we don't like them very much. I told her that we'd find some friends."  
  
Mark swung Miral up, and she laughed. "Hello, young lady."  
  
"Do you live here, too?" she asked him.  
  
"I certainly do. We're neighbors now." He jiggled her a little bit. "Look how grown up you are. You're almost too big for this."  
  
"I'm ten," she said confidently.  
  
"Try again, honey," Tom said, holding up two fingers. "How old are you?"  
  
She sighed dramatically, with the air of one who puts up with too much aggravation. "I'm two. And a half." Then she spotted Dr. Brown and said, "Who are you?"  
  
"This is our newest doctor," Mark said. "His name is Dr. Brown. Doctor, this young lady is Miral Paris, who will be part of our crew."  
  
"Tom Paris," Tom said, as he offered his hand. "Ship's pilot."  
  
"Zeke Brown," the young man said. His skin had darkened to a deep brown, but otherwise he seemed unperturbed by his gaffe. "Pleasure to meet you, Commander."  
  
"So, how do you like our new Sickbay?" Tom asked. "Doc here is pretty proud of it."  
  
"It's wonderful," Zeke said. "In fact, I've already performed my first procedure in it."  
  
Mark looked at him sharply. "What's that?"  
  
"Open mouth, insert foot," Zeke said, facing him directly, looking chagrined. "My apologies, sir."  
  
He sounded sincere, Mark thought, but he'd been dealing with people who sounded sincere for more than a year now. "We'll talk about it later."  
  
Tom looked from one man to the other, and then held out his arms. "Come on, honey. Doc has work to do, and so does Dr. Brown. Let's see if we can find Delia. Or maybe Lieutenant Vorik. I'm sure he'd love to let you help him."  
  
After a moment's consideration, Miral shifted her weight, and Mark handed her over to Tom. "See you later," Tom said, and Miral called, "Bye!"  
  
"Sir," Zeke began as soon as they were alone, but Mark raised a hand and cut him off.  
  
"Lieutenant." Mark tried to keep his voice level, but the syllables came out clipped. "You are correct that two physicians requested reassignment when they learned that this ship's CMO is a hologram. If you have any such qualms, this is the time to raise them. Once we are underway, it will be too late. There are no transfers from the Delta Quadrant."  
  
Yes, sir." Zeke swallowed. "It's not a problem for me. I mean, I've never been around holograms much so it's all kind of new, but...I really want this assignment."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"I beg your pardon?"  
  
"Why do you want this assignment, Doctor?" Mark looked at him pointedly. "Do you think you'll have a chance to be in charge most of the time since I'm only a hologram? Do you think you'll get more opportunities for away missions than a junior physician usually gets?"  
  
Zeke blinked. "You know, I hadn't thought about being in charge. I guess I figured you'd always be here. I have to admit, I did think about the away missions."  
  
"Well, think again. With my mobile emitter, I can go anywhere. In fact, I can go to places that are incompatible with biological life." Mark folded his arms across his chest. "If you stay, you're going to be the junior physician on the medical staff. That means you'll be taking the off-shifts, you'll be doing a lot of the paperwork, and you'll be taking orders from me. And you won't be treating people just because they are uncomfortable with a hologram."  
  
The younger man didn't respond at first. After a pause of at least four seconds, he finally said, "I want this assignment because we're going to the Delta Quadrant, and it's the first planned mission there. And I want it because we're going to be interacting with the Vidiians, who seem to be decades ahead of even the Adigeons in genetic therapies. I don't know much about holograms, Doctor. Never been around them much. But Starfleet says you're in charge, so it doesn't matter to me if you're a hologram or an android or whatever."  
  
Unfolding his arms slowly—it was dramatic, and Mark never underestimated the power of drama—the EMH kept his gaze fixed on Zeke. "All right," he said slowly, drawing out each vowel. "We'll give it a try. But understand this: if you don't work out, we'll find a place for you in Commander Torres' waste extraction team."  
  
For a moment, just a quick, fleeting moment but more than enough to assuage Mark's concerns, Zeke looked scared. Then he smiled. "It's a deal, Doctor. It's a deal."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter written by Penny


	24. Never Parted

  
***24***  
  
**First Officer's Quarters, _Voyager_ _II _-June 12, Stardate 57445.8**  
  
As soon as he walked in he could see her, silhouetted against the stars as she gazed out of the view ports. She moved her head only slightly to acknowledge his entry. From this, Tuvok knew his wife had recognized his step on the carpeting. If she had heard the tread of a stranger, she would have turned to greet the visitor. After many decades of married life, despite long periods of separation, he expected no less.  
  
T'Pel knew him extremely well.  
  
Within seconds he had taken the six long strides required to reach her position. He stood beside her, his fist clasped behind his back, and observed the same tracery of arches and stations which made up Utopia Planitia T'Pel was intently studying. They watched as three small craft maneuvered their loads of building materials close to a covey of spacesuit-clad construction workers, who quickly affixed them to the skeleton of the ship which was being assembled two bays away from where the new _Voyager_ awaited the rest of its crew.  
  
Finally, T'Pel broke the silence. "How difficult is it to work under weightless conditions? I would think if someone moved too quickly, inertia would carry them far from their former position before they could stop themselves."  
  
"That is known to happen, although it is rare amongst workers as skilled as these. Each one has a tether line to hold him or her in place. Maneuvering thrusters in their suits can return them to where they should be if the tethers become undone in some way. Making gradual alterations in position helps the workers guard against the unexpected or extreme movements caused by inertia."  
  
T'Pel nodded thoughtfully. "There is a beauty to their motions. The rhythms are much like that of Terran ballet dancers. I confess I did not expect to have such an aesthetically pleasing pageant to watch at a place where starships are constructed. I associate a shipyard with technical pursuits rather than the arts."  
  
"The creation of a starship requires builders who are artists as well as craftpeople," Tuvok agreed.  
  
T'Pel turned to face her husband. She wore an appropriately neutral expression on her face, but the sparks of starlight reflecting in her coffee-colored eyes danced in their own aesthetically pleasing way. They often did this when she looked at him. He suspected his own sparkled in a similar way whenever he beheld her.  
  
T'Pel brushed her fingertips against her husband's shoulder in a signal he could easily interpret. As one, they walked to the couch and sat down close to one another. "Do these quarters meet with your approval, T'Pel?"  
  
"Very much so. I have finished my unpacking, but I left yours for you to complete, as is your preference. If I have used compartments which you are accustomed to take for your own belongings, you will need to choose new ones."  
  
"That is the penalty I must pay for choosing duty over housekeeping chores," Tuvok responded blandly. "However, since this ship has more luxurious accommodations than the old _Voyager_, I would not be able to follow my accustomed routines in any case. I will suffer the inconvenience." He was also quite certain T'Pel had left him a fair share of the most easily accessed storage compartments. She always did, wherever they went.  
  
"I was also responsible for duties other than housekeeping tasks this afternoon. Chakotay called the first meeting of the civilian technical team, after I had reported to Doctor Zimmerman for my baseline physical at noon. While I was in sickbay, Commanders Torres and Paris arrived with their daughter to have their own physicals completed. It was a fortuitous meeting; I was able to reintroduce myself to Miral. The Doctor was pleased to be able to show both of us our 'Red Alert' stations."  
  
"I can imagine," Tuvok remarked, with as much stoicism as he could muster. Images of the Doctor's typical effusiveness when presented with an opportunity to show off paraded vividly before his mind's eye. "What was Miral's response?" Tuvok could have added "and that of her parents" to this question, but did not. He could easily envision the chief engineer's snarling lips and chief pilot's rolling eyes if the former EMH had been as annoying as he was capable of being.  
  
"Apparently her parents had already prepared Miral for staying with 'the Vulcan lady' during red alert conditions. She was fascinated by the way my robes swung as we walked to our station. She tried to 'teach' her garments to move along the floor in the same manner. I explained she required longer clothing, which touched the floor to accomplish this. Miral then asked her parents for 'long, booti-full robes' to wear during red alerts."  
  
"And her parents' response to this singular request?"  
  
"Commander Torres told Miral she doubted she would have time to change into robes once the red alert signal sounded, but Mr. Paris promised he would have some replicated and stored in Sickbay so Miral could change into them and learn to 'glide across the floor as beautifully as Mrs. Tuvok does' as soon as she arrived at her station."  
  
Tuvok arched a disapproving brow. "A typically frivolous response from Mr. Paris, although an accurate description of the way 'Mrs. Tuvok' walks."  
  
"I thank you for your compliment about my way of walking. I thanked Commander Paris, as well; but I disagree that his response to his daughter was at all frivolous. On the contrary, when the red alert signal sounds, Miral will promptly travel to her station to enjoy another opportunity to wear her special robes, reducing the chance she will become upset. Must I remind you, Tuvok, that even our own children, at Miral's age, had a high probability of becoming disturbed in such circumstances? Instead, Mr. Paris has transformed an activity that could be upsetting into something which Miral can anticipate with a degree of pleasure. This appears to be another example Mr. Paris' ability to divert others from the unpleasant realities of life."  
  
Tuvok considered this for a moment before replying, "You are correct. Mr. Paris often used his sense of humor to relieve the crew's tension during difficult situations on the original _Voyager_. I did not consider he may now utilize it in an equally constructive manner when interacting with his daughter."  
  
Tuvok lapsed into silence while his wife continued, "Miral is certainly a lively child, but she also appears perceptive. She is obviously very intelligent. I look forward to contributing to her formal education...Tuvok? Is something wrong? You seem to be somewhat distracted."  
  
He read concern in her eyes. "I beg pardon for my apparent inattention. I was listening to you. Captain Janeway told me only this afternoon how pleased she is that you have volunteered to teach Miral, despite your other duties, since this ship will not have the educational staff _Pioneer_ will possess. Is Chakotay at all concerned about the time this may take away from your duties as part of his staff?"  
  
"On route to the Delta Quadrant, my skills as a sociologist should not be overly taxed. We anticipate I will be able to handle both assignments to everyone's satisfaction. Do you believe otherwise?"  
  
"Not at all," Tuvok quickly replied, noting that his wife was not at all pleased he might be suggesting he was. "You cannot be certain your expertise as a sociologist will not be required more than you expect, however. It sometimes seems the unexpected occurs more frequently than the expected, particularly on ships called _Voyager_."  
  
"This mission to the Delta Quadrant will not be like the last, Tuvok, if only because this time, it is your planned destination," T'Pel pointed out gently.  
  
"Planned or unplanned, any trip through the Delta Quadrant is fraught with danger."  
  
T'Pel regarded him gravely. "We have discussed this subject before, and in great detail. I believed we were in accord that I should accompany you on this mission. Have you had second thoughts?"  
  
"None whatsoever. However, I do wonder if there may be another reason you volunteered to instruct Miral. This will be the longest separation from our children you will have ever experienced. It may be difficult for you to be away from them for as long as this mission will last. Perhaps you believe caring for Miral will replace the time you would normally expend caring for our own children. Miral is the true child of her parents, however. She is very different from our offspring."  
  
"She is, indeed," T'Pel concurred. "Miral is much younger than any of our children, for one thing. Smaller, as well—much smaller, even, than our granddaughter T'Meni."  
  
Tuvok stared at his wife. Her brows were arched high; her eyes were bright. If she were human, he was certain, T'Pel would be laughing at him.  
  
Tuvok stood up and walked towards the viewport. Crossing his arms, he looked out and over the half-built starship, so lost in thought he did not see the workers scrambling over its shell. Only when he felt the tracing of fingers along his arm did he become fully cognizant of the view outside and of his wife, now standing next to him. "I apologize, Tuvok. That comment was unnecessary. I may have spent too much time among humans lately for my own good."  
  
He turned towards her. "Your comment was of no consequence. My concern is how you will respond to the absence of our family, particularly if a situation arises that will force us to remain in the Delta Quadrant for a longer period of time than anticipated. Many milestones of our children's and grandchild's lives will undoubtedly be reached without your participation. I know how difficult that can be."  
  
She stroked his hand. The bond they shared resonated, as always when they touched each other. "Yes, I will not share many events in their lives for the next year or two, but for any parent, that will occur sooner or later. Our children are all now adults—yes, even our daughter Asil, even though she is still a student. She will graduate shortly from the Institute of Science and is well on her way to attaining the independence our sons have already achieved. Sek has arranged for her to spend all of her holidays with his family. Varith and Elieth have also extended invitations for her to spend time with them and with those to whom they are betrothed. She has already informed them in no uncertain terms that she is grateful for their offers, but she plans to spend much of her free time pursuing her own interests. You know this, yet you are still troubled?"  
  
"Varith may become espoused while we are gone..." At her skeptical expression, he added. "I wish only to give you an opportunity to change your mind and remain behind with them if you wish. I would not want you to regret your choice to accompany me on this mission, missing key events in the lives of our children as a result."  
  
"I am sure there will be times I will wish we could all be together, my husband, but I will face those times when they come. Our children fully understand why I have chosen to come with you on this journey. Do you wish me to make it clear to you now as well?"  
  
"Yes," he replied softly.  
  
"Tuvok, before you ended your first hiatus from Starfleet, there were times when I perceived you suffered from a sense of incompleteness. Although you anticipating to live the rest of your days on Vulcan, you were restless. Meditation did not seem to help you concentrate on some of the tasks you had agreed to complete. You became distracted quite easily. Once you returned to Starfleet, those periods of dissatisfaction quite simply vanished. I was pleased, although I wished I could share more fully in this phase of your life. Circumstances never permitted it. When I might have had the opportunity, such as during the years on Earth when you were an instructor at Starfleet Academy, I devoted most of my time to raising our family. I was unable to share everything to the extent I would have desired."  
  
T'Pel raised her hand to forestall the interjection that he was about to make. "Please believe me, Tuvok, when I say I have no regrets about taking this path. Caring for our children always satisfied me completely, just as my developing interest in and choice of career as a sociologist did. However, these commitments did prevent me from sharing any shipboard postings with you. One or the other of my responsibilities always interfered."  
  
"Is it so different now?"  
  
"Yes, it certainly is. Our children may benefit more from this time apart from us than they would if they remained physically close to us. Their relationships with each other as siblings, which became less central to their lives once they reached adulthood, will assume greater importance. We will not be near at hand when the need or desire to be with their family members arises, but they will have each other."  
  
"We will be able to have some contact with them via the MIDAS Array network."  
  
"Of course. They will not wonder about our fate, as we did when you were lost in the Delta Quadrant." T'Pel hesitated for a moment. "As for me, during the meeting of the civilian scientist group today, I realized I had become part of a unique endeavor. I have never before had the opportunity to help shape an expedition of this type. Never have I achieved the level of professional satisfaction before as I did today. Perhaps it is the 'greenhouse effect' created by the closed society on a starship—I suspect I will need to collect more data on this—but already I see how the disparate members of the original _Voyager_'s crew could develop such strong bonds with one another. If I must admit to any regret at all, it is that it is such a new experience for me. Academia will never be the same. When I can add to this the satisfaction of sharing this experience with my spouse, to a degree I never could previously, the value this expedition has for me is quite compelling--not to mention its importance for the Federation as a whole. Do you understand what I am trying to convey, Tuvok?"  
  
"I believe I do," Tuvok said. He interlaced her fingers with his and felt his mind fall into step with hers, their bond renewed as they shared the sense of touch. "This 'greenhouse effect' is an accurate way of describing the stimulation one finds when working with one's friends, overcoming great odds to reach a goal that, at first, seems highly unlikely to be achieved."  
  
"Good. I am pleased you understand. I have run out of words to explain it to you any further."  
  
"You have no need for any more words. Standing with you here—in _our_ quarters—is enough. Sharing this journey with you will be enough. However, we cannot deny the many challenges confronting us, or the risks which we must face."  
  
"Risks and challenges always exist, Tuvok, even in settings which seem perfectly safe and ordinary. It is the sharing that matters."  
  
The light reflecting off the half-built starship highlighted the sides of their faces nearest to the viewport. Tuvok was unable to retrieve the words to express all that he would say to her if he could. Of course, he did not really need to say anything at all. Through their joined hands, their bond became manifest, merging them until they were of one mind, which is the hallmark of Vulcan marriage. Tuvok and T'Pel stood next to one another in their quarters, communicating all any couple could ever wish to relay to each another--without uttering a single word.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter written by jamelia


	25. Act 4—Pre-Departure Events and Ceremonies

**_Act 4—Pre-Departure Events and Ceremonies  
_**  
***25***  
  
_Odyssey_-June 12, Stardate 57446.9  
  
Geordi couldn't help grinning as he walked down the corridor of Deck 8, carrying a large potted Tellarian lily. The plant's aroma always made him think of pumpkin pie, with its mixture of cloves and cinnamon and nutmeg. When he was a boy, his mother had kept one in their quarters on Starbase 77 and called it the best thing the Tellarites ever exported. Unfortunately, his sister's cat had shared this opinion and ate it down to the roots in a single afternoon. They never got another lily while Tiger lived. By then, Geordi was at Starfleet Academy.  
  
Once he reached his destination, he stopped and announced himself. In a minute the door opened, and he stepped into Alyssa Ogawa's quarters. "Welcome aboard," he said.  
  
Alyssa smiled broadly. "What in the world?"  
  
"It's a housewarming present for Drew, and it's heavy. Where do you want it?"  
  
"Oh! Well, over here, for now." She pointed to a corner near a table in the main room. "He's taking a nap. Therapy always tires him out." Geordi set the pot down in the appointed place, and she said, "Thank you, Geordi...Captain."  
  
"You're welcome. And we've known each other too long to be formal off duty, Alyssa." Mission accomplished, he turned to her. "So. I'm sorry I wasn't available when you reported aboard yesterday. Are you settled in?"  
  
"Almost. Sickbay is perfect, and Drew is completely unpacked, but," and she shrugged ruefully, "I've still got a few things to put away. Would you like a cup of coffee?"  
  
"Sounds good." He sat down at the table and watched her as she moved to the replicator. He thought she had regained the weight she had lost, so she no longer looked gaunt. He hoped this meant she was recovering from the emotional blows dealt to her over the past few years. "I'm glad you took this assignment. It's good to have a few familiar faces on my senior staff."  
  
"Are you kidding? I'm the one who's grateful." She joined him, bringing two steaming mugs from the replicator. "It's not every captain who would request a physician barely two years past residency as CMO, especially when she needs to bring her son along."  
  
Geordi took his cup. "You were a great nurse, and according to Beverly Crusher, you're a great doctor. She takes credit for you, you know."  
  
"She should. I wouldn't have gone to medical school without her encouragement. She was my biggest supporter, after Andy." At the mention of her late husband, her cheerful mien faded but she quickly forced a smile. "And you and Sam. I don't think I could have finished without you."  
  
Geordi acknowledged her meaning with a slight nod. Alyssa had entered medical school immediately after the destruction of the _Enterprise-D_ on Veridian III. Her husband, Andy Powell, had taken an assignment at Headquarters at first, but during her second year he had been transferred to the _USS Tecumseh_. Barely five months later, he was killed in a battle against the Klingons, leaving Alyssa so devastated that she had nearly dropped out. Even though he was aboard the _Enterprise-E_ by then, Geordi had remained in close touch with her, as had Beverly Crusher. Her other close friends from the old days, Sam Lavelle and Taurik, were on other ships, but they too had made an effort to stay in regular contact. Between them, they had convinced her that Andy would have wanted her to finish, for herself and for their young son, Drew.  
  
Then, just after she graduated in 2375, Drew's class had been on a field trip to Starfleet Headquarters when the Breen attacked and leveled the building. Miraculously, Drew was one of four children who survived, but he was badly injured. Alyssa, frantic with grief again, nearly dropped out to devote herself to her child. Beverly Crusher had been able to arrange for Alyssa to transfer her residency to a rehabilitation hospital, where Drew endured a long and painful convalescence, so she was able to finish her training without having to spend long hours away from him.  
  
The boy was ambulatory again, but far from fully recovered. When Geordi was offered command of the _Odyssey_, he immediately thought of Alyssa for his Chief Medical Officer. Federation medicine had done everything it could for Drew, but if reports about the Vidiians were true, they might possess something that could help. Even though the mission parameters included only pre-school age children, he gladly waived that requirement so that Alyssa and Drew could come along.  
  
The door chime interrupted Geordi's thoughts ,and Alyssa released the door. Sam Lavelle walked in. "Hey," the first officer said. "Are you starting the poker game without me? I'm on lunch break, so I've got time."  
  
"Two-handed poker? I don't think so," Alyssa said. "Grab something to eat and sit down. Tell us who else has come on board."  
  
Sam didn't bother with the coffee, but turned a chair backwards and straddled it. Geordi recalled that when Sam was a green officer on the _Enterprise_, Will Riker had been his role model. He certainly had Riker's body language down pat. "Let's see. Thirty-three crewmen and nine officers have come on board since breakfast. Anyone in particular you want to know about?"  
  
"How about our Ops officer? He had his physical the other day."  
  
Sam lifted his shoulders in a half-shrug. "The Delta Quadrant hero? So far, I'm not impressed."  
  
Alyssa's eyes twinkled. "Well, I am. He's darned cute. I wouldn't be surprised if he gives you some competition, Sam."  
  
Lavelle frowned at her. "I'm serious."  
  
"So am I."  
  
Geordi raised a hand. "Social potential aside, Harry Kim has an excellent record."  
  
"With Captain Janeway." Sam shook his head. "Everyone knows the _Voyager_ crew is sticking together. I still wish you could have pulled strings to get Lani Rager off the _Komarov_. At least she's a proven performer."  
  
"You think Harry Kim isn't?" Geordi asked, surprised by the vehemence in Sam's tone.  
  
"Oh, he's probably competent," Sam said, and waved a hand dismissively. "Captain Picard wouldn't have put up with him otherwise. But even Janeway didn't think enough of him to promote him on schedule. He was an ensign for seven years. And let's face it—he never had to stand up to the Jem'Hadar, did he?" Then he tilted his head. "Do I smell pumpkin pie?"  
  
"It's the lily," Alyssa said. "If you're hungry, you know where the food is."  
  
As Sam walked over to her replicator and ordered a piece of pie, Geordi leaned back in his chair. Lavelle had been a promising young officer on the _Enterprise_, and he'd continued to excel after moving on to other postings. During the War, Sam had seen almost continuous combat duty, first against the Klingons, and then against the Dominion. Apparently, he had a bias that was common among war veterans, Geordi thought. "I think," he said as Sam sat down again, "you should read his record more closely. _Voyager_'s experiences in the Delta Quadrant were just as much of a test as anything we saw in the War."  
  
"And besides," Alyssa added quickly, "he's got more experience in the Delta Quadrant that any of us. Personally, I'm glad we've got a couple of people on the senior staff who know where we're going and what it's like there."  
  
Sam wrinkled his nose even as he swallowed a piece of pie. "Oh, yes. Lieutenant Commander Delaney. The brand new Command School graduate."  
  
"It sounds to me," Geordi said quietly, "as if you've got a problem with everyone from _Voyager_."  
  
"It's not a problem," Sam offhandedly replied. "But I do think they've been overrated. Everyone was so sentimental about _Voyager_ getting home that everyone became a hero. I don't buy it. As far as I'm concerned, they're going to have to prove themselves."  
  
Alyssa cocked her head. "Really? You know, Geordi's right. You need to read their records more closely."  
  
"Mom!"  
  
At the sound of Drew's frightened shout, they all froze. Alyssa rose and called, "I'm here. Are you all right?"  
  
"Yeah." A pause. "I'm okay."  
  
Looking relieved, she sat down again. "He's been having nightmares again," she said softly.  
  
Geordi winced. "I thought he'd gotten over that."  
  
"The counselor says it's to be expected."  
  
She was wearing a brave face, Geordi thought, but she couldn't quite conceal her pain. And was there any pain worse than that of a parent, suffering with, and for, a child? He leaned forward and covered her hand. "He'll be okay. He's a tough kid."  
  
"You bet," Sam echoed.  
  
The words were no sooner spoken when Drew's door opened and the boy walked in. Like most ten year olds getting out of bed, his hair was tousled, with a cowlick pointing upward from the crown of his head. But few ten-year old boys leaned heavily on an antique wooden cane when they walked, or wore a VISOR to see. "Hi, Sam," he said. "Captain. I didn't know you were here."  
  
"I came to welcome you to the _Odyssey_," Geordi said. "What do you think of my ship?"  
  
Drew smiled slyly. "Well, I haven't seen the Bridge yet..."  
  
Sam laughed. "Watch out for him, Captain. He's a tricky one."  
  
"I'm not tricky," Drew protested, seemingly offended. Then he grinned. "I'm smart."  
  
Geordi laughed. "Well, I think we can arrange a private tour of the Bridge. Commander, I think tomorrow, just before Beta shift, would be a good time."  
  
"Great!" Drew lit up, genuinely pleased. Then his grin turned into a wince, and one hand touched his temple, near the VISOR interface.  
  
Geordi recognized the gesture. "Headache?" he asked quietly.  
  
"Yeah. It's like an ice cream headache, you know?" The boy shrugged.  
  
"Yeah, I know." He put a hand on the boy's shoulder. "If it gets too bad, tell your mother. She always did the best adjustments to my VISOR."  
  
"It's not so bad. But I'll be glad when I'm done growing and can get artificial eyes like yours." Then he lifted his head and sniffed. "Is that pie?"  
  
"Yes, and it's mine," Sam said. "Get your own, champ."  
  
"Not before dinner," Alyssa said hastily. "And besides, that's not just pie you're smelling. Captain La Forge brought you a Tellarian lily. It's for your room."  
  
"Thanks," Drew said, so dutifully that Geordi almost laughed. Of course, no ten year old boy would be excited about a plant. He was sure Drew would learn to appreciate it in time.  
  
"I should be getting back to work," Geordi said, rising. "Drew, I expect to get your opinion of the ship after you see the Bridge. You'll have to tell me if you think we're ready for adventures in the Delta Quadrant. We've only got a couple weeks left to make improvements."  
  
"Yes, sir!" The boy beamed at him. Then he added, "Captain, do you really think we'll have some adventures? I mean, it's not going to be a boring diplomatic thing all the time, is it?"  
  
"Drew," Geordi said slowly, "I think the one thing we can count on in the Delta Quadrant is that nothing ever happens the way it's supposed to. We'll have some adventures, I guarantee it."  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter written by Penny


	26. The Wrong Murphy

  
  
***26***  
  
**Office of the First Officer**_, Voyager_ _II_-June 18, Stardate 57463  
  
B'Elanna signaled for entry. The doors slid open and she walked into Tuvok's office.  
  
"Commander Torres," Tuvok said. He didn't look particularly pleased to see her, but then again, it was always hard to tell exactly what Tuvok was thinking. He rose from behind the desk.  
  
"Thanks for seeing me, Tuvok," B'Elanna said. She dropped a PADD on his desk. Tuvok eyed it.  
  
"Is there a problem, Commander?"  
  
B'Elanna jabbed a finger in the direction of the PADD. "I've been matching faces with names, Tuvok, and the Ensign Murphy assigned to Engineering is _not_ the one I requested."  
  
Tuvok picked up the PADD. "This is the personnel request for Ensign L. Murphy," he said. "Is this not the individual you requested?"  
  
"I requested Ensign Lawrence Hugh Murphy from _Voyager_, _not_ this Ensign Ludwig Murphy," B'Elanna said hotly. "The Ensign Murphy I worked with on _Voyager_ was a competent engineer, dedicated and hardworking. The Ensign Murphy you've assigned to me is a...a..." she stopped for a moment, mentally searching for the right word. "He's a menace."  
  
Tuvok arched an eyebrow. "A menace?"  
  
"Yes. He's possibly the most incompetent engineer I've ever met." B'Elanna shook her head, remembering her first encounter with Ensign Murphy. For some reason, he had chosen to eat a cheese sandwich while handling the gel packs. Taken at face value, the incident seemed innocent enough, except for the fact that cheese enzymes had a way of reengineering the genetic structure of gel packs. Ensign Murphy's "mistake" had set B'Elanna back on her engineering schedule, and it had taken her days before she could speak to Murphy again calmly. However, she'd assumed that he was merely a temporary assignment, not someone whom she'd be stuck with for the long term.  
  
"In your request for personnel transfer, you wrote yourself that Ensign Murphy performed at the highest standards," Tuvok reminded her. "You said you would be honored to have him once again on your staff."  
  
"I know what I wrote," B'Elanna said in exasperation. She ran a hand through her hair. "But I was talking about someone else entirely, someone who was with us on _our_ _Voyager_ that I wanted to work with again. _This_ Ensign Murphy just graduated from the Academy; I don't know how. Do you know what he's done now?"  
  
Tuvok tilted his head to the side. "I assume you plan to tell me?" His tone was one of wry amusement.  
  
She glared at him. "He forgot to incrementally power down the power phase couplings." She stopped, waiting for Tuvok to make the connection. When Tuvok didn't speak, B'Elanna continued impatiently. "You can't just turn the power phases couplings _off_, Tuvok. You have to power down based on a certain schedule. If not, the heat intensity doesn't dissipate and it can cause a meltdown in the..." her voice drifted as she noticed that Tuvok's attention had drifted back to the PADD. "Are you even listening to me?"  
  
"You have my full attention."  
  
B'Elanna frowned, unconvinced. "So, what are you going to do about it?"  
  
"Do?"  
  
"About Ensign Murphy. I don't want him in my department. He causes more problems than he solves. Half of the diagnostic instruments have run down their fuel cells because he forgets to turn them off. And don't even get me started on his hygiene habits! If he infects one more set of gel packs..." B'Elanna stopped, taking deep breaths to calm herself down. "Tuvok, I want _this_ Ensign Murphy gone and I want the one I requested." B'Elanna put her hands on her hips as she glared at Tuvok.  
  
"I see." Tuvok sat back down behind his desk. "I will contact Personnel at Starfleet Headquarters and request the transfer."  
  
"Thank you." B'Elanna relaxed. _Finally_, she thought, she'd get some work done in Engineering. She'd spent most of the last few days hovering over Ensign Murphy or having one of her other engineers do so.  
  
Tuvok looked up, his brow furrowing slightly. "Starfleet Personnel has assigned Lieutenant Lawrence Hugh Murphy to another vessel, which is currently on a two-year deep space mission. He is unavailable for transfer."  
  
B'Elanna stared. "Well, then, can we get someone else? I'm telling you, Tuvok, I won't stand for this man on my staff for another minute."  
  
"Starfleet Personnel is non-responsive."  
  
"Non-responsive? What the hell does that mean?" B'Elanna demanded. She rested her palms on Tuvok's desk.  
  
"It simply means that they cannot handle the request for transfer at this moment." Tuvok looked up. "You do understand how long these types of things take? It may be a few days before I hear back."  
  
B'Elanna bit back her frustration. _Damn Starfleet and their administrivia._ And then she brightened. Perhaps Personnel could use a little assistance? Perhaps, in a gesture of goodwill, she could ask them if they could use Ensign Murphy in their offices.  
  
"B'Elanna?" Tuvok looked questioningly at her.  
  
Jolted out of her thoughts, B'Elanna said, "I was trying to come up with a solution. Perhaps Murphy is just as uncomfortable with me as I am with him. Maybe he wouldn't mind an assignment on Earth. That could be easily managed, couldn't it?"  
  
"Murphy's personnel file specifically requests a deep space assignment," Tuvok stated. "I am sorry, B'Elanna. Perhaps you can make some accommodation for Ensign Murphy until we can arrange his transfer to another vessel. Perhaps some additional training will provide helpful."  
  
"Additional training?" B'Elanna bristled at the suggestion. "I've already wasted enough time on Murphy, Tuvok. No amount of training is going to bring him 'up to snuff.' I want him gone. I don't care what you have to do to get rid of him, but I refuse—absolutely refuse!—to have him in Engineering for a minute longer."  
  
"This could be a lengthy process, Commander," Tuvok said. He gestured to his viewscreen. "It could even take weeks."  
  
"I don't care how long it takes." She jabbed a finger in the direction of his console. "Isn't there someone out there who can help? I mean, is Starfleet Personnel _really_ that busy?" She shook her head. "If I could go down there myself, Tuvok, I would."  
  
"I'm sure that won't be necessary, B'Elanna."  
  
"Then you have to do something!" B'Elanna said, a note of desperation creeping into her voice. She looked pleadingly at Tuvok, but the Vulcan's expression remained decidedly implacable. "I know you know people, Tuvok. Maybe you can call one of them? Perhaps the captain..."  
  
"What you are asking will require time, B'Elanna. More time than we have."  
  
B'Elanna shrugged. "I'm talking about a _quality _and_ efficiency_ issue. Shouldn't we take the time to make sure we have the right people onboard to fulfill the parameters of this mission?"  
  
"As I said, B'Elanna, as soon as I make some progress on this issue, I will inform you."  
  
"And how long will that take?" B'Elanna was unable to let this go. "You will make this your top priority, won't you?" She knew she was being unreasonable, but at the same time, she wanted Tuvok to know exactly how frustrated she was with the situation. "Every day we keep Ensign Murphy on board is additional liability we can't afford. Promise me you'll do everything you can to get Murphy off this ship as soon as possible."  
  
Tuvok sighed. "And I must remind you, we do have a mission to accomplish. I'm sure the captain will not appreciate any more delays. Especially _unnecessary_ delays." He looked pointedly at B'Elanna. "I believe your personnel issues fall under that heading, Commander."  
  
B'Elanna opened her mouth to protest, but then she realized Tuvok did have a valid point—one that she couldn't really argue with. Besides, Janeway probably wouldn't be receptive to her problem; she could just imagine the captain telling her to work out the Murphy issue as best as she could.  
  
"Fine," B'Elanna said, trying to keep her tone clear of frustration. But promise me you'll keep trying? If there is any way..."  
  
"I assure you, B'Elanna, I will find a solution for your problem."  
  
B'Elanna nodded as she did her best to push her frustration away. In the meantime, she figured she could keep Murphy busy scrubbing out the plasma manifolds.  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter written by Seema


	27. Dedication on The Presidio

  
***27***  
  
**The Presidio, San Francisco-June 20, Stardate 57468.7**  
  
"There's quite a turn out, isn't there?" Harry Kim said as he surveyed the crowd in front of him. "I don't think I've seen this much brass since I played in the Starfleet Academy band."  
  
"I guess it's a good thing they modified the old holodecks after all," Tom Paris replied. "I was pretty upset when I heard what they were doing, but I guess they had their reasons.  
  
"Yeah, I guess so," Harry agreed. "But it's still pretty weird to think of _Voyager_ as being a museum. I mean, can you imagine some tour guide with a room full of kids: 'And right here in this holodeck, Captain Proton and his faithful sidekick battled Satan's Robot...' "  
  
" '...and Captain "Arachnia" Janeway, Queen of the Spider People, defeated Chaotica along with his powerful death ray and his army of evil...' " Tom continued, and they both laughed at the memory.  
  
They were standing at the rail of a low mezzanine at the back of what had once been _Voyager_'s Holodeck One, but which was now a much larger space. Once Starfleet had decided to convert the ship into a museum, several modifications had been made, and one of the first had been to combine both the ship's holodecks to make one large one. The resulting space was big enough to hold the crowd that had been invited to celebrate the official dedication of the U.S.S. _Voyager_ NC 74656 as an archive and research facility for those who wished to study the ship and her logs, as well as a memorial and tribute to the members of her crew who had fallen during the long journey home.  
  
Tonight the 'new' holodeck had been programmed as an elegant rotunda, complete with pillars and statuary. There were several food stations and bars set up in alcoves along the walls, and a string quartet was playing to one side of the large double doors leading into the room. Guests were arriving quickly, and a definite air of celebration and expectation prevailed.  
  
Starfleet was cognizant of the continued fascination with _Voyager_ and her crew— as far as the media was concerned, they were still print-worthy—and when the idea for the ship to become a museum had been floated in the press, the public response had been overwhelmingly in favor.  
  
Today's crowd was an indication of the interest _Voyager_ still generated. There had been very few refusals to the invitations. In fact, Admiral Blanc had complained bitterly to William Ross about the number of calls he had gotten asking him to try to get extra entrées to the event. Tickets for tours of the ship were selling well, and there had been quite a few requests by various organizations, think tanks, and even government departments to hold meetings and seminars on board. As far as Starfleet's media and public relations chief Commander Craig was concerned, it was a P.R. bonanza; he was determined to take full advantage of every opportunity the ship and its erstwhile crew could provide.  
  
"Where's B'Elanna?" Harry asked Tom as they continued to watch the activity swirl below them.  
  
"She's coming a little later. She wanted Miral to have a good nap this afternoon. It's going to be a long evening, and we want her at her best."  
  
Harry nodded and grinned. "Good idea. I've seen Miral napless. It's not pretty."  
  
"Nope."  
  
"I see your Dad," Harry said, "And there's Admiral Hayes. And Ross and Gelb," Harry added.  
  
"Yes. I see them. Over there with Admiral Bullock. Can you imagine being in a room with all those guys? I bet there's more hot air circulating at one of their meetings..."  
  
"Watch it, Tom," Harry interrupted him,  
  
"Not my Dad, of course" Tom said quickly.  
  
"But you never know who could be listening."  
  
"Don't worry so much Harry," Tom replied. "I'll be careful. Are you still worried about Lavelle?"  
  
"I don't know what it is he's got against me," Harry said.  
  
"He'll get over it," Tom said. "Look. There's Captain La Forge and Captain Merves,"  
  
"I'm looking forward to serving with Captain La Forge, though."  
  
"Harry," Tom pointed. "There's Ayala. And I see both Delaneys. I heard Megan's engaged.  
  
"I met him. Rick somebody. Great guy. Lucky guy," he added.  
  
Tom nodded, and the thought of Marla Gilmore flashed through his mind. He resisted the urge to ask Harry about her and continued to point out familiar faces instead. " I see Neelix and Sarexa. Wow," Tom exclaimed.  
  
"You're right. That's some jacket," Harry laughed. "It's great though. Some things shouldn't change. Hey, isn't that Will Riker?"  
  
"Sure is. But that's not surprising. He and La Forge served on the _Enterprise_ together for a long time. And I see Ro Laren and Lieutenant Commander Worf over by the door."  
  
Both men continued to watch the crowd below them, waving every once in a while to friends and crewmates who happened to notice them, but mostly they stood unobserved, sometimes pointing out various notables, but often in silence.  
  
The room was now filled almost to bursting, and Tom was relieved when he finally spotted his wife and daughter. He gestured at them enthusiastically, and it didn't take long for B'Elanna to spot him. He watched as she carefully threaded her way towards him through the crowd. Miral, obviously more than a little overwhelmed by her surroundings, held tightly to her mother's neck.  
  
"Hello ladies!" Harry greeted them, and Miral immediately stretched her arms out to him.  
  
"Hello, Harry. Hi, Flyboy," B'Elanna said, handing her daughter over to one of her favorite "uncles" as she came to stand beside them at the mezzanine's railing. "Good view you've got here," she said.  
  
"Yup," Tom replied. "You can count on us."  
  
"There's Mrs. Janeway talking to Chakotay's sister Maya, and I see his cousins Tervan and Julia, too. But where's your mother, Harry?" she asked. I thought for sure she'd be here."  
  
"She wanted to come, believe me," Harry said, "but she's on a retreat with her students and couldn't get out of it. And she tried."  
  
"I can just imagine," B'Elanna said, barely managing to suppress a grin. She wondered who the lucky administrator was who'd had to deal with Mrs. Kim on a rampage, and how he'd survived it.  
  
"Finally," Tom pointed. "See. There's Captain Janeway and Tuvok." They all watched as the two commanding officers entered the room, to be quickly engulfed by the crowd.  
  
"I feel sorry for the captain today." Harry said. "You know how much she hates the media. She told me once she'd rather face the Borg than a press scrum. Commander Craig must drive her crazy."  
  
"I know. By the way, where's Chakotay?" Tom asked. "He should be around. I see Professor Sakar, and there's T'Pel, but I don't see the commander. I mean...the professor," he corrected himself. "He's got something planned for later, though. I assume you received the message he sent out?"  
  
"I got it. Pretty cryptic, if you ask me. Just 'join us after the dedication for a dedication of our own: 10 p.m. Mess Hall. _Voyager._' "  
  
"Well, whatever it is, we'll all be there," Tom said, indicating his wife and daughter. "It was addressed to the three of us."  
  
"Look out!"  
  
They watched as the press quickly surrounded Kathryn Janeway, Geordi La Forge, and Joshua Merves, all of whom had been the focus of intense media attention, particularly over the past few weeks. The Delta Quadrant mission, with its multifold purposes of rescue, exploration, and settlement, had captured the imagination of a public hungry for anything different from the usual Starfleet news. This was the first opportunity, well-orchestrated by Commander Craig, of course, that the media would have to confront all three captains at once.  
  
"Captain, captain, over here." One reporter, waving even more frantically than the rest, pushed his way forward through the crowd. "How many Romulans are there on your roster?" he shouted.  
  
Commander Craig held up his hands for silence. He waited until the room was quiet, which took surprisingly little time, and gestured for the three captains to follow him onto a stage that had been programmed at one side of the rotunda.  
  
There was a podium, with a lectern and a microphone set up on the right side of the stage, and four high chairs arranged in a row beside it. Craig gestured to the three to each take a seat before he walked up to the podium.  
  
"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the _U.S.S._ _Voyager_," he began. "We will proceed as follows. Captains Janeway, La Forge, and Merves will answer one or two questions. Short questions," he quickly added, as members of the press shuffled in anticipation, "and we will then welcome President M'Renn, who will officially dedicate this ship as a museum." He turned to address the three officers behind him. "Are you ready?"  
  
Not waiting for an answer, he turned back to face his audience. "We'll start with a question from Hartley Tefton of _Starfleet News_." There were a few audible groans from the press corp. Hartley Tefton was a Risian journalist for the Starfleet News Network, and was known to be a friend of Commander Craig's. His program, _Fleet Features_, was a soft news journal; and although he did cover current events, his focus was usually on the lighter side of things. Sure enough, his question, which he addressed to Geordi La Forge, was typically inane. "Captain, how have you decorated your office?"  
  
As Geordi began his reply, an aide glided onto the stage and whispered something into Commander Craig's ear.  
  
"Captain...Captains...ladies and gentlemen," the Commander interrupted in the middle Geordi's description of his Tellarian lily, "unfortunately, we're going to have to cut this portion of the program short. I'm pleased to announce that President M'Renn has arrived to officiate, and she has another engagement in..." he made a show of consulting his chronometer, "forty minutes."  
  
Craig waited until the mutters of protest from the press corps died down once again to formally introduce the President of the Federation, to enthusiastic applause.  
  
She stepped up to the podium, all feline grace, her tail erect and swishing, and waited for a moment until the room had settled down once again before she began to speak.  
  
"This ship, with its history of adventure and exploration has been designated an historical site by the Department of Education and Cultural Affairs. It will serve as a constant reminder to all of us of the bravery, perseverance, and dedication of her crew, as well as a memorial to those who were left behind in the Delta Quadrant. But she will also serve as a universal symbol—to remind us of who we are, and of what we can be. In making _Voyager_ a museum, our intention was not to stop her from flying, but to make sure that we, as a united Federation, continue to fly. _Voyager_'s example—a ship in dire circumstances, overcoming seemingly insurmountable odds; a crew united in spite of their differences, working together towards a common goal; not knowing whether that goal is attainable, but nonetheless never giving up--that, ladies and gentlemen, is what we must remember. By preserving our past, we ensure our future.  
  
"This new mission of the new _Voyager, _along with her sister ships the _Odyssey_ and _Pioneer_, will be a journey of discovery and investigation, as well as one of diplomacy and rescue. The lessons learned in her previous journey will surely be put to the test. I have every confidence that this expedition back to the Delta Quadrant will be an unqualified success, and that, to paraphrase the Federation adage, _Voyager_, _Odyssey _and _Pioneer_ will explore new worlds, seek out new life and new civilizations, and go--boldly and bravely--where no one has gone before."  
  
The applause was deafening. M'Renn waited patiently until it abated before continuing.  
  
"Captain Kathryn Janeway, please."  
  
As Janeway joined the president at the lectern, M'Renn gestured to an aide, who immediately came forward and handed the President a plaque.  
  
"The inscription on this is the same one that is on the original, which is still affixed to the wall on this _Voyager_'s bridge. Captain, will you please read it for us."  
  
She handed over the plaque. Janeway's voice, strong and clear, echoed through the rotunda as she complied with the President's request.  
  
_"For I dipt into the future, far as human eye could see; Saw the vision of the world, and all the wonder that would be..."_  
  
M'Renn turned to face her. "Remember these words, Captain, as your journey begins."  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter written by CyberMum


	28. A Long-Awaited Ceremony

  
***28***  
  
**Mess Hall, **_Voyager_-June 20, Stardate 57468.7  
  
For the first time in almost two years, _Voyager_'s Mess Hall was in full use. The kitchen was a beehive of activity, with Neelix, still in his official ambassadorial garb, supervising a team of ensigns who were putting the finishing touches on several very elaborate desserts. Sarexa tried to pull him away, but to no avail.  
  
"It's all under control, Neelix," she told him. "Ensign Blatock is following your instructions exactly. You really should join the party."  
  
"But I _want_ to do this, my dear," he explained. "It's so very important that things be just right tonight."  
  
Sarexa, realizing her mate was as happy as she'd seen him in a long time, patted him gently on the cheek and left him to his own devices—and the many devices in what would always be his kitchen.  
  
"Don't worry, Sarexa," he called after her, "I'll be where I'm supposed to be when I'm supposed to be there!"  
  
"Saxa, Saxa!" A small form hurled herself towards her, and Sarexa bent down just in time to catch Miral in a great big hug.  
  
"How are you, my sweet?" she asked the child, who clung to her with her usual fierce enthusiasm. "And where's your Mommy?"  
  
"I'm here, Sarexa," B'Elanna answered, slightly out of breath. "You know, I chase my staff all over Engineering every day, but they don't seem to wear me out the way this little bundle of energy does!"  
  
Sarexa laughed as Miral bounced towards another familiar figure on the far side of the room. They both watched fondly as the child was hugged and petted by all she met.  
  
"She'll be just fine here," Sarexa said reassuringly, "She's got a roomful of caregivers to watch out for her. Why don't you sit with me for a moment and relax."  
  
B'Elanna needed no second invitation. She sat down gratefully in the chair Sarexa offered. "It's so good to see everyone, isn't it?" She said. "This gathering of Chakotay's...of just our _Voyager_ family and friends...it was a great idea. I can't stand those big Starfleet affairs. All that brass and formality aren't for me. I couldn't wait until the dedication ceremony was over so I could just come here and relax."  
  
"Those ceremonies do serve a purpose, B'Elanna," Sarexa reminded her.  
  
"Oh, I know it. Morale, image-building, public relations. That Commander Craig's been down to Engineering a number of times asking for statements and information he can pass on to the press. But as far as I'm concerned, it's all a bother."  
  
The Mess Hall was filling up rapidly; the party was in full swing. Chakotay, who had been standing at the door greeting all who entered, had finally been pulled into the center of the room by Kathryn Janeway, who was one of the last to arrive. She'd had to remain at the Starfleet reception until it was officially over, and she had _not_ been happy about it. To the amusement of all who were watching, he welcomed her with a quick kiss and a full flute of champagne. She downed it immediately and promptly handed the glass back to him with a request for "more of the same."  
  
The room was abuzz with conversation and laughter. Although a lot of them had kept in touch with one another, many crewmembers hadn't seen each other in the months since _Voyager_'s return; reunions were definitely the order of the day. The warmth and joy in the hall was palpable.  
  
Chakotay was standing in a group consisting of Michael Ayala; his two sons; a lovely young woman Michael had introduced as Kajee Narel and her young daughter Lajen; Ro Laren; and Tal Celes and Angelo Tessoni, looked on as Janeway, her second glass of champagne in hand, circulated through the room. When she stopped to hug Mark Zimmerman, Chakotay couldn't help but grin, remembering the battles the captain and the hologram had engaged in over the years. When he noticed his sister and his cousins, Julia and Tervan deep in a conversation with Professor Zaji, Chakotay excused himself from the contingent that had traveled from Bajor and approached Maya and his cousins.  
  
"Well, big brother," Maya teased as he hugged her, "You obviously made quite an impression on your professor. But now that I've told her how you learned your technique, by digging under rocks looking for worms to frighten me with when we were children, she might just have to reconsider your degree, isn't that right, Kimani?"  
  
"I remember a time when both of you were chasing us," Julia recalled. "You and Tervan. Papa caught you and made you bring all the worms back to the woods."  
  
"Yes, I remember," Tervan grinned at the memory. "We spent a whole day digging holes and burying those worms. That was fun!"  
  
Kimani Zaji laughed. "I will definitely have to review his thesis...as well as his digging techniques."  
  
"Too late, Professor," Chakotay replied. "My degree has been approved and registered. You'll have to trust that I will deal with any worms I might find in an appropriate manner." He glanced across the room and spotted Owen and Alicia Paris, standing in front of the Mess Hall's largest viewport, speaking with Gretchen Janeway, Tuvok, and T'Pel. "I'm afraid you must excuse me," he said. "It's time we got things underway."  
  
"Are you almost ready?" The admiral asked as Chakotay approached him.  
  
"I've been ready for a long time," Chakotay replied with a smile. "But yes, I think I am."  
  
"Well then, let's get started, shall we?" Paris smiled back at him. "I think this is the sort of thing that should be done quickly, don't you? I promise we'll make it as painless as possible."  
  
"Owen, do you actually think that's funny?" Alicia Paris asked, and Chakotay and Gretchen laughed.  
  
"I don't believe the professor will find what he is about to do will be at all painful," Tuvok said solemnly, "However, I am not so sure about the captain."  
  
There was a moment's silence, before they all burst into laughter. "Tuvok, I do believe you've made a joke!" Gretchen said with delight. "No wonder Kathryn is so very fond of you."  
  
Chakotay gestured to Neelix, who had long since left the kitchen and was circulating his own way through the room. The Talaxian hurried towards them, nodding and smiling, as he made his way through the crowd.  
  
"Are you ready, Comm...Professor?" he asked.  
  
"Why does everyone keep asking me that?" Chakotay said plaintively, but his tone was belied by his grin.  
  
Neelix picked up a glass that was sitting on nearby table and tapped it several times with a small silver beater that he'd dug out from a deep pocket in his jacket. Chakotay recognized it as the same one they used to ring the triangle at Prixin.  
  
The sharp clear sound of the beater on the crystal rang through the room and immediately caught everyone's attention. The chatter stopped as all turned to the source of the sound.  
  
"Ladies and gentlemen, honored guests, officers, members of the crew, family, friends..."  
  
Tuvok coughed gently.  
  
"I just wanted to make sure I don't leave anyone out," Neelix explained, amidst much applause and laughter.  
  
"The professor," Neelix pointed to Chakotay, "invited me to say a few words, and so I will!" More laughter.  
  
"Welcome, welcome, all of you," he continued, after the crowd had finally quieted down. "As you know, tonight is a very special night, and we're all here to celebrate. Our ship and crew have been given a very special honor. We should all be very proud. I know I am." He paused for a moment, gazing out at the many familiar faces in the crowd.  
  
"But tonight, we're going to celebrate something else. I'd like to ask Admiral Paris to help me out."  
  
As Neelix retreated and the admiral stepped forward, a small clear voice called out "Pop-Pop!" Owen Paris grinned and waved at his granddaughter.  
  
"Hush, Miral, Pop-Pop's busy now," Tom Paris admonished his daughter gently, and turning to B'Elanna asked, "Do you know what's going on here?"  
  
"Not a clue," she whispered back. "Shhh..."  
  
"Chakotay," The admiral called him forward.  
  
"Kathryn." Janeway made her way to the front of the room to stand beside Chakotay.  
  
"I believe Chakotay, you have something you'd like to say?" Owen Paris stepped back and left the two of them to face the crowd.  
  
"Tonight, so far, we've witnessed not one, but two dedications," Chakotay began. "We dedicated this ship as a living memorial. We remembered our fallen. Celebrated our success. And we embraced our future when we accepted the dedication plaque for our newest journey—and another starship named _Voyager_. But there's one more dedication we'd like to make this evening."  
  
"A dedication and a commitment," Kathryn Janeway continued, "One that we've already made, really, but that we'd like to share with you all now. Admiral?"  
  
The guests did not immediately realize what was about to transpire; but when Admiral Paris stepped forward again and faced Kathryn and Chakotay; Gretchen Janeway moved to stand beside her daughter; and Maya beside her brother, it became perfectly clear.  
  
"Yessss!" Harry Kim's voice broke through the applause, which started at the back of the Mess Hall and grew in volume until it became almost deafening.  
  
Admiral Paris raised his hand, demanding quiet; and the crowd complied.  
  
Addressing the couple before him, he said, "You both have indicated to me that you wish to be joined in matrimony in the tradition of your parents. Is this still the case?"  
  
"It is," they replied in unison.  
  
"Then let us begin. Chakotay..."  
  
Chakotay turned to face Kathryn and took both her hands in his.  
  
"Kathryn Janeway, I commit to you with all my heart and all my soul. I cannot imagine a life that doesn't include you. Your joys are mine, and your sorrows are mine as well. No matter where I am, and no matter where you are, we are together in mind, in spirit, and in heart."  
  
"Chakotay..." Janeway's voice was low and steady, but her hands shook slightly as they rested in his. Chakotay stroked her palm with his thumb, and they stilled. She looked down at them and up at him and smiled. "You steady me, you anchor me, and you complete me. I commit to you now and forever, in mind, in spirit, and in heart."  
  
Chakotay gently withdrew his hands from hers and looked at his sister, who handed him a small square box. He opened it and removed two simple silver rings, one of which he handed to Kathryn.  
  
"These bands were made from duranium taken from the hull of this ship—from _Voyager_," he explained. "We will wear them with great love and pride." He slipped the ring he held onto Kathryn's finger and then held his hand out so that she could do the same for him. They both turned back to face Admiral Paris.  
  
"This ceremony, then, has united the two of you as you requested, according to the laws and regulations of the Federation and the customs of your ancestors," Admiral Paris intoned formally. "You are now husband and wife."  
  
Chakotay pulled Kathryn towards him, tipped her chin up and kissed her soundly on the lips. The cheers and hurrahs that accompanied this action caused them to break apart grinning. Gretchen Janeway hugged her daughter and her new son-in-law before handing them each a glass of champagne, which she had instructed Neelix to have ready and waiting for them at the conclusion of the ceremony. Kathryn smiled at her mother in gratitude and raised her glass in a toast. Chakotay joined her. Throughout the room, their guests did the same.  
  
Tom Paris was the first to reach them, with B'Elanna close on his heels. "I can't believe you did that—I just can't believe it," he exclaimed as he shook Chakotay's hand. "Congratulations to the both of you. I'm impressed you were able to keep this such a secret."  
  
"Thank you, Tom," Kathryn replied. "Coming from you that's quite a compliment." She patted Chakotay's arm fondly. "It was his idea, but I thought it was a pretty good one myself."  
  
"Chakotay...I...you..." B'Elanna, suddenly at a loss for words, found herself engulfed in Chakotay's warm embrace.  
  
"Thanks, B'Elanna," he said with a smile as he released her.  
  
"I'm so glad this is finally over," Kathryn's sister Phoebe exclaimed as they hugged. "I had a terrible time keeping it a secret, you know!" She turned to Chakotay. "And now I've finally got a brother," she grinned at him. "I always wanted one of those..."  
  
"Glad to oblige," he replied, "And we appreciate that you managed to keep it quiet, believe me."  
  
"It was a lovely ceremony, too." Phoebe turned back to her sister. "Typical Kathryn: short and to the point!" Kathryn grinned and reached out to embrace her sister once more.  
  
"Exactly what we wanted," Kathryn replied.  
  
"There's dessert, there's ice cream," Neelix announced as he bustled through the crowd. "And of course, there's coffee, Captain," he said as he hurried by her on his way back to the kitchen.  
  
"Captain. Professor." The voice was insistent and the tone was one of annoyance. Janeway turned to find herself face to face with Commander Craig, Starfleet's number one public relations and communications officer, and, recently, one of the banes of her existence.  
  
"How could you do this without telling me," he complained. "I would have had a photographer and someone from the networks here to cover it. What an opportunity we've missed."  
  
"I beg your pardon?" Janeway replied. "I don't recall inviting you this evening."  
  
"I overheard some of your staff discussing this gathering. You must be aware that all public functions on this ship are subject to approval by my department."  
  
"The approval for this gathering came from the Admiralty, and as far as I'm concerned that's approval enough for me. This is a private party, and there is to be no coverage. No coverage at all. Do you understand me?"  
  
"But it's a great news story, Captain," Craig was almost whining. "Great publicity."  
  
"In a few days you can send out a small release announcing that the captain and I are married," Chakotay informed him. "I'll call your office and tell you when. But, in the meantime, if there is one hint of this in tomorrow's papers..."  
  
"There will be hell to pay." Admiral Paris finished for him. "Now, have a glass of wine, Craig. There's a good man. Let's leave these people alone."  
  
Owen Paris took Commander Craig firmly by the arm and led him away.  
  
*****  
  
The party continued, and one by one, each of the guests filed by to offer their congratulations to the bride and groom. By the end of the evening, Janeway was exhausted, and even Chakotay was feeling the strain.  
  
"I'm glad we only have to do this once," he said to her as the last of their guests finally left the Mess Hall.  
  
"Once is more than enough, thank you," she replied.  
  
"Are you sorry?" he asked her, suddenly serious.  
  
Instead of replying, she pulled him to her and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Never," she whispered into his lips, just before she kissed him.  
  
"Now take me home, Professor. That's an order!"  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter written by CyberMum


	29. The New Counselor

  
***29***  
  
**Mess Hall, **_Voyager_ _II-_June 23, Stardate 57476.7  
  
She sensed he was there before she saw him.  
  
"Can I help you?" she asked, without lifting her head from the report she was reviewing.  
  
"Captain Janeway."  
  
It was a statement, not a question.  
  
After several long beats, Janeway finally looked up. The young man who stood before her, obviously very much at ease with his kit bag slung casually over his shoulder, didn't really look as if he needed any help at all.  
  
Janeway raised one eyebrow—in a fair imitation of Tuvok, she hoped wryly —and deliberately returned her gaze to the PADD she had been studying. But the young man either couldn't take a hint or was being intentionally obtuse. He continued to stand there, waiting for her full attention.  
  
She had decided to take a quick break from her office and the tedium of dealing with pre-mission minutia that had seemed to have taken over her life as _Voyager__ II's_ departure drew closer. She'd made her way to a table in the quietest corner of the Mess Hall with a freshly brewed pot of coffee. Most of her staff knew not to bother her during these rare down times—if you could call them that—but this young man was definitely new. Clearly, he not yet been briefed on the likes, dislikes, and habits of The Captain.  
  
The ship's personnel had been checking in regularly over the past several days, and she had made an effort to meet and greet as many of them as she could. She and Tuvok had reviewed the crew roster countless times, and in consultation with Starfleet Personnel, had literally handpicked most of their staff. So far, she was extremely pleased with those she'd met. Janeway had instructed all department heads to send their new crew members her way once they had been properly processed. She reflected, however, that this was _not_ supposed to occur during her coffee breaks.  
  
This young man was different. His attitude was casual, his demeanor, although not at all disrespectful, more relaxed than most of the others who had presented themselves to her. And once she finally lifted her head to get a good look at him, she realized he was probably one of the most beautiful young men she'd ever seen.  
  
He wasn't too tall, not much over six feet; but he was well-built and filled out his Starfleet uniform very nicely. She shook her head imperceptibly and wondered where that thought had come from. His features, although not perfect, melded together as beautifully as if they were. He had full lips, a slightly aquiline nose, piercing blue eyes, and a shock of dark brown hair, a lick of which, resting lightly over his forehead, gave him an air of casual insouciance. He projected a magnetism that even Kathryn Janeway, newly married and very much in love with her husband, couldn't help but notice.  
  
When he saw he finally had her full attention, he tossed his bag down onto the floor beside him, retrieved a chair from the table next to hers, and sat down across from her.  
  
Janeway, torn between annoyance and amusement at his presumption, sat back and waited.  
  
"I'm Lieutenant Chip Dalen," he said with a smile, "Ship's counselor, reporting for duty." His voice was mellifluous, with a slightly exotic accent, and his smile was dazzling. Janeway had to force herself not to respond in kind.  
  
"I reported to Sickbay about half an hour ago, but the Doctor wasn't available. The ensign who was there suggested I come back later," he explained.  
  
"I see," Janeway said, "Didn't you try to seek out the appropriate personnel officer first? I believe Lieutenant Colson is responsible for intake and induction procedures today. She would have told you when the Doctor is on duty."  
  
"I did," he replied with another engaging grin. "We had a nice conversation, actually, and she gave me all the information I needed. She was very efficient," he said, in defense of his fellow officer, "but I told her I thought I'd have a look around and introduce myself anyhow."  
  
Janeway immediately wondered whether Lieutenant Colson had been so charmed by a pair of bright blue eyes she had neglected to mention that one didn't just wander around the ship introducing oneself to the captain at will.  
  
"I know it's probably not proper procedure," he continued, and she tried to recall whether Counselor Dalen had listed psychic capabilities among his counseling skills, "but I like to get a feel for the ships I work on as quickly as possible."  
  
"I see."  
  
"I met several members of your staff and crew on my way here," he continued, "They were very helpful and pointed me in the right direction. A Lieutenant Commander Delaney escorted me on a tour of the Astrometrics laboratory."  
  
"I can imagine. But Jenny Delaney has been assigned to the _Odyssey_."  
  
"Yes, she told me," he replied. "She was here visiting a friend. She's quite vivacious, isn't she?"  
  
Janeway could only nod in agreement.  
  
"And there was an Ensign Meltor too. She helped me with my bag, although that wasn't really necessary. And Professor Chakotay..."  
  
"Professor Chakotay?" Janeway couldn't quite mask her surprise.  
  
"He was on his way back from a meeting, I believe. In fact, it was Professor Chakotay who suggested I try the Mess Hall. He said he thought you'd try to escape here."  
  
"Professor Chakotay is a dead man," Janeway muttered quietly under her breath.  
  
"Did you say something, Captain?" Dalen asked, and then continued without pause. "He also told me he thought it might be a good idea if you showed me where my office is yourself, although I told him I was sure I could find it on my own."  
  
Janeway twisted the wedding band, still so new on her finger, and wondered fleetingly what exactly constituted justifiable homicide. If she murdered Chakotay before they actually left for the Delta Quadrant, would it impact negatively on her image as mission commander?  
  
"Let's go then," Janeway said decisively and stood up, indicating to her newest crewmember that he follow her lead. He did so with alacrity, picking up his bag and slinging it over his shoulder in a casually fluid manner.  
  
They exited the Mess Hall together and headed for the turbolift. On their way down the corridor they passed two young female crewmembers, who stared at her companion in awe for several long seconds before remembering to salute their captain. Janeway nodded at them, and turned to look at Dalen, who seemed to be totally oblivious to the commotion he was causing. She momentarily wondered if he were part Deltan.   
  
"You're here, on Deck 5," Janeway told him as they exited the turbolift and headed towards a group of offices not far from Sickbay. As they made their way around a flustered-looking ensign who somehow had managed to drop the toolbox she was carrying as they passed by, Janeway commented, "I understand you've been on several long deep space missions."  
  
"Yes, I spent eleven months on the _Cochrane_ and sixteen months on the _Mohawk_," Dalen replied, as he'd retrieved the last of the young woman's escaped hypo-spanners and handed it back to her with a smile. "The _Mohawk_ was on an isolation assignment for five of those months. I developed several methodologies for dealing with problems unique to remote missions. I expect some of those same situations will arise during our travels as well." He stopped in front of the door marked "Counselor" and turned to face Janeway. "I'm more than prepared for this mission," he said seriously.  
  
"Lieutenant, you would not be here if I didn't think you could do the job," Janeway said, as she keyed a code into the pad beside the door.  
  
"Thank you, Captain," he responded. They both stared in surprise as the door opened before she had completed the sequence.  
  
"Hello, Captain," B'Elanna Torres said, as Janeway stepped into the office, Chip Dalen right on her heels. "The counselor's replicator needed a bit of an adjustment, and I thought I'd see to it myself." She grinned impishly, and Janeway raised an eyebrow in reply.  
  
"Lieutenant Commander B'Elanna Torres," Janeway introduced them. "_Voyager_'s chief engineer—Lieutenant Chip Dalen."  
  
Torres reached out to shake Dalen's outstretched hand. "Welcome aboard, Counselor. I think you'll like it here."  
  
"I think so, too," he replied and dropped his kit bag onto the sofa opposite his desk. "Everyone is extremely friendly," he added, as he opened up the bag and began to rummage through it. The two senior officers watched in silence as the lieutenant pulled out a large silver goblet, a heavy looking candle with three wicks, and a small silver bell. He ran his fingers abstractedly through his hair as he surveyed the room carefully, obviously contemplating where he would put these objects, and they both realized he'd forgotten they were there.  
  
Janeway pulled at B'Elanna's sleeve, and they turned and left the counselor to his own devices without uttering another word.  
  
"Not you too, B'Elanna," Janeway said as the office door swished shut behind them. "Please don't tell me..."  
  
"Don't worry, Captain," Torres grinning, hurriedly reassured her. "But I heard about him from four members of my staff this morning. I just wanted to see what all the fuss was about."  
  
Janeway sighed and then laughed. "I wonder how many crewmembers are going to suddenly find a need to consult our new counselor?" she mused, as they headed towards the turbolift.  
  
"I'll bet they'll be lined up at his door before we even leave the Quadrant."  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter written by CyberMum


	30. Royalty Reporting

***30***  
  
**_Voyager_ _II_-June 25, 2381, Stardate 57481.2 (T-minus two hours)**  
  
The transporter operator looked up curiously from his controls. "And you are?"  
  
"Lieutenant Auraan, Chief of Ops," she snapped, adjusting the strap of the duffle bag on her shoulder as she stepped off the transporter pad, surprised he wasn't expecting her. "You should have been notified of my arrival."  
  
"Yes, ma'am," the ensign said, straightening to attention at her tone of voice. "Just a confirmation, ma'am." He added, somewhat apologetically, "It's not the usual procedure for crewmembers—let alone senior officers—to beam aboard less than two hours before the scheduled launch time." Auraan flushed as he continued to stare at her. "If you need any help taking your belongings to your quarters, I can have someone—"  
  
"That won't be necessary," she said, cutting him off. "I'm on my way to the bridge." She strode out into the corridor.  
  
The strap of her bag was cutting painfully into her shoulder. Auraan briefly regretted turning down the ensign's offer of assistance. She stopped, rubbed the painful muscle, then hoisted the bag once more. A Rigelian crew member—also a lieutenant, she noticed from his pips—approached from the opposite direction, then slowed imperceptibly as he passed her. He was accompanied by two women, one of whom appeared to be Bajoran, the other Vulcan. All three glanced at her curiously, then resumed their whispered conversation. Auraan felt her face tighten. They were probably talking about her. She wondered if they knew who she was, or even worse, assumed she was Bolian because of the similarity of her skin coloration.  
  
She entered the turbolift, glad to find it was empty. "Bridge," she ordered. She composed herself best as she could, conscious she needed to make a good impression on her commanding officers. " 'Begin as you wish to proceed,' " she muttered under her breath, quoting one of her grandmother's favorite aphorisms. Though she had ceded the throne in favor of her eldest son some years before, the Queen Mother was as sharp as ever, still retaining her political acumen. Auraan knew her grandmother's advice would doubtless be useful on this "officer exchange" program with Starfleet she had committed herself to for the next year.  
  
The turbolift doors opened. Auraan took a deep breath and stepped out onto the Bridge. The first thing she saw was a Klingon at Tactical and a Terran at Ops—_her_ station. The Klingon looked fierce, but that was nothing compared to the look the Vulcan first officer gave her as he rose from the center command seat.  
  
Lifting her chin proudly, she said, "Lieutenant Auraan reporting for duty, sir."  
  
"I am Commander Tuvok," he said with a slight frown. "Lieutenant, all personnel were required to check in no later than 24 hours before launch."  
  
"I had a message sent," Auraan said immediately, "explaining that there were extenuating circumstances and that I would be arriving a bit later but would be on board in time for the launch."  
  
Tuvok was about to answer, but another voice spoke first. "I don't know what the norm is in the Troyian Royal Navy, Lieutenant," said a petite woman standing just outside the Ready Room door, "But in Starfleet, officers are supposed to follow regulations to the letter, no exceptions made." She drew even with Auraan and gave her a level look. "Particularly before a mission has even begun."  
  
Auraan flushed deep indigo but kept her temper under control. "I apologize for any inconvenience, Captain, but I—" her voice faltered underneath that cold gaze. "I'm sorry." Her head held high, her spine perfectly straight, Auraan turned and started toward the Ops station, prepared to take up her position.  
  
"Lieutenant Auraan," said Tuvok sharply, "You have been assigned to the Gamma shift. Ensign Zesas will continue at Ops for the remainder of this rotation."  
  
Auraan opened her mouth to protest, but her eyes met those of the captain, and she thought better of it. "Would you tell me where I am supposed to be now, Commander?" she asked frostily.  
  
"Report to Sickbay, Lieutenant, for your medical exam."  
  
"Yes, sir." Auraan turned on her heel and exited onto the turbolift, as she tried to wrap the last shreds of her dignity around her.  
  
*****  
  
Even the patterned breathing exercises her drill instructor at the Royal Academy was so fond of couldn't help her calm down. Auraan stomped angrily into Sickbay, trying not to think about the debacle that had just occurred on the bridge. There was no _need_ for the captain and commander to treat her so dismissively, none whatsoever.  
  
"May I help you?" A pleasant looking dark skinned Terran male looked up and smiled. The only other medical personnel she could see was an officer moving around in an inner office, and what was probably a technician working in an adjacent lab.  
  
"Lieutenant Auraan. I'm here for my physical," she said brusquely.  
  
"Well, Lieutenant, why don't you stick your bag in a corner and sit down on a biobed." He smiled again and gestured at the empty room. "Take your pick." He picked up the mediwand, prepared to run a scan.  
  
"I'm Troyian," she said right away. "You don't want to set the baseline for a Bol—"  
  
"You know," he said so smoothly it hardly seemed like he was interrupting her, "It's amazing the advances in technology these days. I could tell right off the bat that you were Troyian—not because I'm a brilliant physician or have an extensive background in xenobiology, although both of those happen to be true—but because the medical tricorder is telling me just that."  
  
The mildness with which this was said brought her up short. "I'm sorry," she murmured, embarrassed. "I'm not usually so—I'm having a really bad day."  
  
He paused for a moment. "Is there anything else I should know about you?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Then let's start again," he said. "I'm Doctor Zeke Brown." He held out his hand.  
  
"Lieutenant Auraan," she said, holding out her own hand in return.  
  
The warm pressure of his hand was reassuring—and friendly. "Welcome aboard, Lieutenant." He picked up his mediwand once more. "Now, let's get this exam out of the way so you can unpack and get settled in."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter written by Rocky


	31. Epilogue: The Journey Back Begins

**_Epilogue: The Journey Back Begins_****  
**  
***31***  
  
**Bridge, _Voyager_ _II_-June 25, 2381, Stardate 57481.1 (1400 hours)  
**  
_"Good journey, Captain,"_ said Admiral Hayes. Next to him, on the main promenade of the station, stood a variety of dignitaries, including Federation President M'Renn.  
  
"Thank you, sir," Janeway said. "Request permission to depart."  
  
Hayes nodded. "_Give our regards to the Delta Quadrant, Kathryn. And we're looking forward to your safe return in another 18 months._"  
  
"We'll do our best, Admiral." As soon as the connection was broken, Janeway looked at the Ops officer. "Open a ship-wide channel, Ensign Zesas. All hands, this is the captain. Prepare for immediate departure. Janeway out."  
  
  
**Main Observation Lounge, _Voyager II_  
**  
The main observation lounge was nearly filled with off-duty personnel. The heaviest concentration of people, of course, was directly in front of the large floor-to-ceiling viewports through which the docking clamps still holding the ship firmly in place could be seen. Even as Chakotay watched, one of the slender pylons swung outward, away from _Voyager_, and slowly began to retract itself into the main body of the docking bay.  
  
Chakotay glanced down at his neat civilian clothes. It felt strange not to be in uniform, even stranger not to be standing on the bridge right now, at Kathryn's side. A glimmer of starlight reflected off the simple metal band he wore on his left hand. He smiled at this reminder that despite the changes their lives had undergone in the years since the original voyage—or perhaps because of them—he and Kathryn were embarking now on a shared journey of discovery.  
  
Closer to the viewports, Chakotay caught sight of a tall graceful figure in Vulcan dress, accompanied by a smaller one who jumped up and down and squealed with excitement. Chakotay's smile turned to a grin as he saw T'Pel bend down to Miral and pick her up so she could see better. He started to make his way toward them through the crowd, trying to ignore the whispered murmurings as he passed, "That's the captain's husband!"  
  
He had nearly reached the other side of the room when he noticed, standing off to one side, a very striking young woman in a gold Starfleet uniform. Or at least she would have been beautiful were it not for the sour expression on her face. The woman's skin was a pale dusky blue, which contrasted sharply with her inky mane of hair and wide dark eyes. For a moment he couldn't place which species she belonged to; Bolians were bald, and she lacked the Andorian antennae. And then he remembered that Kathryn had mentioned the new Chief of Ops was Troyian. But if that indeed was her identity, why was she here right now, in the lounge, instead of on the Bridge? Normally, the Alpha shift would be on duty on the occasion of a mission launch. Just then she raised her head and gave him a cold stare, before she moved out of his line of vision.  
  
Chakotay shook his head; it was no business of his. Such matters were under the purview of the ship's new first officer  
  
  
**Bridge_, Odyssey_  
**  
"Docking clamps released, sir."  
  
Captain Geordi La Forge nodded to the helmsman. "Thank you, Lieutenant Korbut. Take us out nice and easy, one quarter impulse."  
  
"Aye, Captain."  
  
Geordi's gaze met that of Harry Kim at the Ops station. In the younger man's eyes Geordi saw the same sense of excitement he himself felt, but there was something more—almost the look of a man who was returning home. Geordi smiled, not really surprised. He could well imagine how the original "_Voyager_s" felt about returning to the Delta Quadrant.  
  
Next to him, Sam Lavelle had noticed Kim's expression as well; with an impatient clearing of his throat, the first officer activated his console and called up the mission protocols. Geordi shook his head, turned his attention back to the main viewscreen, and watched as the planets of Earth's solar system quickly slipped by.  
  
  
**Bridge_, Pioneer_**  
  
"Incoming message from Utopia Planitia, main docking ring, sir," said the young Ops officer. "Prepare for departure in three minutes."  
  
"Acknowledged," said Captain Josh Merves.  
  
"About time," said Ambassador Diaza, with a slight edge to his voice. "Was it really necessary to keep us waiting for so long?" At his side, his aide stirred but did not speak.  
  
"There are certain protocols and procedures involved in departure from Spacedock," Lieutenant Ayala noted from the Tactical station. Merves gave him a grateful look.  
  
But Diaza was not satisfied. "I understand that, but did we have to be the last of the three ships to be thus released?" he demanded.  
  
"It's my understanding that the escort vessels—in this case _Voyager_ and _Odyssey_—always go before a colony ship or other civilian transport," the Talaxian Ambassador put in diffidently. Diaza stared at him for a moment as if he were beneath contempt and then resumed fuming under his breath.  
  
Merves hurriedly rose from his seat and went to stand by the Helm console. He didn't know which bothered him more: Diaza's constant complaints and criticisms or the cold silence of the Romulan "observer." He bit back a sigh. It was going to be a long journey.  
  
  
**Main Engineering_, Voyager__ II_**  
  
B'Elanna glanced around Engineering, mentally checking off that each engineer was at his or her assigned station. Unable to relax, she called up the latest warp diagnostic figures once more.  
  
"Everything appears to operating within normal parameters, Commander," Vorik said to her quietly.  
  
B'Elanna jumped guiltily, and then smiled. "Thanks, Vorik, but I just wanted to make sure."  
  
_"Bridge to Engineering,"_  
  
"Torres here, Captain."  
  
_"All systems ready to go?" _asked Janeway.  
  
"Yes, Captain," B'Elanna said, feeling a thrill of excitement. "Just give the word."  
  
  
**Bridge, _Voyager II_  
**  
Janeway rose from her seat and walked to the main viewscreen. Without turning around, she said, "The word is given."  
  
A faint, almost imperceptible hum arose. "Mr. Paris?" Janeway said crisply.  
  
"Increasing our speed to one-half impulse...full impulse...we're at warp, Captain."  
  
"Very good," Tuvok said. "Maintain maximum cruising speed."  
  
  
**Pathfinder Offices, Starfleet Communications Complex, San Francisco **  
  
Admiral Paris watched the screen mounted on the wall in the main complex as the three sleek ships—each equipped with a third nacelle signifying their transwarp capabilities—moved outward in formation from Utopia Planitia's outermost docking ring. He stood there for a long time, unmoving, until the ships had passed beyond the range of the short term sensors. And then his lips moved in a barely heard whisper, "Godspeed, Kathryn—for you, and all the rest of your people."  
  


**FINIS**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter written by Rocky

**Author's Note:**

> Prologue—Surprises  
1\. 10 January: Hayes informs Janeway of changed mission parameters (Rocky)
> 
> Act 1—Planning a New Course  
2\. 24 January: Task force mission introduced at Starfleet Headquarters (Rocky)  
3\. 5 February: Jim Morrow is kicked off Hellstone and sent to Bajor (Penny)  
4\. 9 February: Janeway and Chakotay discuss his participation (CyberMum)  
5\. 4 March: Tom leaves a message for Ayala with his sons (Christina)  
6\. 4 March: Janeway & Torres discuss mutual concerns re Vidiians (Julie)  
7\. 5 March: Ayala speaks with Tom because his boys want to go to the DQ (Christina)
> 
> Act 2—Some Will Go; Others Will Not  
8\. 9 April: Tal & Angelo, Morrow, Ayala & Kajee with children will go to DQ (jamelia)  
9\. 11 April: Andorian governor Diaza hires Daeja Thev for his staff (Christina)  
10\. 15 April: Neelix and Sarexa decide to go back to the Delta Quadrant (CyberMum)  
11\. 22 April: Naomi Wildman invited by Icheb to lecture re genetics research (Penny)  
12\. 7 May: Jenny and Robbie Delaney visit Megan in hospital on Mars (Christina)  
13\. 12 May: Jenny Delaney learns her post-Command School assignment (Christina)  
14\. 18 May: Ensign Marie Stevens discusses careers with voice teacher (Christina)  
15\. 23 May: Joe & Anne Carey discuss decision to remain in Ireland for now (Rocky) 
> 
> Act 3—The Crews Take Shape  
16\. 24 May: Chakotay & Kathryn discuss civilian scientist participation (CyberMum)  
17\. 25 May: Tom & B'Elanna reunite with Harry, new Ops Chief of Odyssey (Julie)  
18\. 26 May: Janeway/Tuvok discuss mission security for Romulan "observers" (Rocky)  
19\. 2 June: Geordi communicates to his father all reasons for going to the DQ (Penny)  
20\. 10 June: Harry meets his new & unimpressed first officer, Sam Lavelle (Julie)  
21\. 10 June: Ensign Stevens reports for duty on Voyager II (Christina)  
22\. 11 June: Tom, B'Elanna, and Miral move into quarters on Voyager II (Julie)  
23\. 11 June: Foot in Mouth Disorder (Penny)  
24\. 12 June: First officer Tuvok & T'Pel settle into quarters on Voyager II (jamelia)
> 
> Act 4—Pre-Departure Events and Ceremonies  
25\. 12 June: Ex-Enterprise gathering--Geordi and Sam visit Alyssa & Drew (Penny)  
26\. 18 June: Too late, B'Elanna discovers she's been given the wrong Murphy (Seema)  
27\. 20 June: Museum dedication (CyberMum)  
28\. 20 June: Another dedication, in the Voyager II Mess Hall (CyberMum)  
29\. 23 June: Counselor Chip Dalen checks in, along with other personnel (CyberMum)  
30\. 25 June: Lt. Auraan makes a belated appearance (Rocky) 
> 
> Epilogue: The Journey Back Begins  
31\. 25 June, Stardate 57482 at 1400 hours: The task force is launched (Rocky)
> 
> ________________________________________________________
> 
> **Next Up: "Cyclops" by Penny**—The task force has barely gotten underway when _Pioneer_ must begin the journey to the Delta Quadrant on its own. _Voyager II_ and _Odyssey_ are ordered to respond to a distress call from former enemies, to save them—and the entire galaxy—from certain doom.


End file.
